


Forging A Path Through A Mountain with a Spoon

by DeletoBeanBlue1194, Justghostingby



Category: Room of Swords (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gaslighting, Gyri?, M/M, there are multiple Gyruses, you'd think Don would be able to come up with better plans after all that time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeletoBeanBlue1194/pseuds/DeletoBeanBlue1194, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justghostingby/pseuds/Justghostingby
Summary: In which Kodya succeeds in resetting Gyrus before the Shadow hour and getting everyone inside the Room of Swords. Unfortunately, Gyrus comes back a little muddled, and thinks he's still on his ship!In which Kodya is stressed, Tori and Sylvia want answers, Don is having way to much fun with this, and Gyrus is beginning to suspect something is very wrong on this ship.
Relationships: Anan Jelani/Sylvia, Gyrus Axelei/Kodya Karevic, Olimedes/Sylvia (Room of Swords)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 155





	1. Gaslight

“Gyrus! Can you hear us? Gyrus!”

“Quiet, leave him alone. He’s waking up, see?”

Gyrus hears the voices first as he drifts in and out of a murky world. They sound familiar, like his own, but that can’t be true. For a minute, he drifts towards them, his ship blinking before him, but the color palette is all wrong. In the place of smooth white is pitch black, outlined in eerie green. Two figures are within reach, huddled and talking. The hooded one looks up and opens his mouth to shout, but the other, achingly familiar, grabs him back. He looks like…

A crash echoes around him, jolting him awake. Lights flood his vision, making him see spots. He tries to lift his hands to block the light, but his arms are too heavy to move. A whimper escapes his lips as he tries to cry for help. He tilts his head, the only part that seems willing to obey his commands, to the side to escape the light. It does little good. 

“Oh...you’re awake!” A voice too loud and too distant at the same time voice washes over him. He groans and twists his head towards it. His eyes barely flutter open to see a woman standing above him. She is dressed in simple white clothes with her hair pulled up out of her face in a long ponytail. He tries to take a second to study her, to figure out where he is and who she is, but his brain doesn’t seem to want to do the work of computing. Instead, it objects rather violently as the woman shifts and reveals the aching light her head had previously covered.

Gyrus shutters and tries to move away. “Easy,” the woman said. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

He has? His brow furrowed. What had…

“Captain Don!” he shouts, sleep paralysis forgotten in the wake of his fear. “The ship!” He turned his head wildly back and forth, searching for his Captain and the wreckage sure to surround them. But there is nothing but empty beds in this strange sterile white room.

“Calm down!” the woman catches his hand as it flails around. “Gyrus you need to calm down! take deep breaths ok?” 

Gyrus does as directed, gasping for air like a fish out of water. It calms him, and he begins to take stock of the room once more. It was white yes, but not unfamiliar. Those counters, so white and clean, the beds in the plain white sheets with the strange paper across them he’d never understood the purpose of, even the sinks with their strange sloped handles could only mean one thing. Medbay.

It's definitely changed, Gyrus thought to himself as he eyes the wider cabinets and extra beds. But how did they remodel in space? “How long have I been out?” he asks.

The nurse, or doctor, it was hard to tell, placed a hand on his chest and eased him back into the bed. “Rest,” she said, “and let me check you over first.”

Gyrus reluctantly complies, knowing that fighting with a doctor was a futile task. As she begins to move through the routines of a normal checkup, Gyrus takes the opportunity to examine her further. More specifically, how he could not for the life of him place her face. 'I definitely remember her from somewhere,' he thought as she presses a stethoscope to his chest. The ship had a lot of people, but it wasn’t that big. Surely they’ve met. But he can’t for the life of him recall where. 

“Don’t kick me too hard this time,” she giggles as she pulls out the little hammer tool all doctors have and taps his knee. 'She’s acting pretty casual,' he thought. 'So she knows me. Should I mention I can’t recall her, or is it because I was too out of it on my last trip here?'

A memory flashed before his eyes, hazy and unclear, of this very bed, getting this very treatment, impatient because in the next one over someone was critically hurt and shouldn’t she be more worried over K… over K… he frowned and gave his head a small shake. The memory was gone.

“Is something wrong?” the woman catches his eye, her brow furrows with concern. Gyrus gives her his best apologetic grin. 

“Nothing really,” he shakes his head again. “It’s just…” there was someone he should be worried about, someone else. Someone important. Who was it? “...Where’s Captain Don?” he asks, choosing to go with the safe option. 

The smile on the woman’s face falters. Gyrus feels his heart clench. That was never a good sign. “...Captain Don?” her voice sounds puzzled. 

“Yes! Captain Don! Our Captain! Is he alright?” He searches the woman’s gaze, hunting for any sign of worry or pain. But there is only confusion, and then it is gone, replaced by a friendly smile.

“Don is fine,” she says, voice reassuring. Her hands are gentle as she pulls out a tongue depressor and checks his mouth. Something protective curls in his gut, he’d known Captain Don for far longer and he still used the proper title. 

“My friends call me Don.” A voice faintly echoes, it sounds... wrong somehow. Like Don but not.

He tries to shake his head again, forgetting the tongue depressor in his mouth. The doctor stops him with a firm hand. “Stay still,” she admonishes. “And say Aww.”

“Awww,” Gyrus began. The door swung open with a bang and a crash. “Awwwhahauh,” he choked as his eyes landed on the man being wheeled into the room. The woman quickly removes the tongue depressor and places a comforting hand on his back as he struggles to breathe.

“I’m not done with the check-up,” she says. Her voice sounds distant and far away. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the other man open his mouth to speak. But Gyrus doesn’t care, all his attention is focused on the man sitting in the wheelchair before him.  
“Captain Don! What happened to you?” Gyrus exclaims. Don froze, eyes wide and confused.

“Gyrus? Mi Amigo?” The captain raises a single eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t understand...how…”

“You’re missing your legs!” Gyrus interrupts him, forgetting protocol. “How did that happen? Did you lose them in the accident? What is going on?” 

Don raises his other eyebrow as Gyrus’s breath starts coming faster and faster. Nothing is making sense. The man before him warps and changes as his brain goes into overdrive, bearded in one, clear in another, frowning, happy, wrong, wrong, wrong…!

“Kodya!” the doctor shouts as she grabs Gyrus. “Help me!”

“Kid.” A strong hand grasps his shoulder. It’s solid and real, like an anchor. “Breath with me,” A voice says above him. “In and out, like a wave on the beach okay?” Gyrus obeys, breathing in deeply and holding it, then letting go. His body slowly starts to relax as he runs the familiar exercise. The hand is still there, warm and strong, keeping him grounded and strangely comforting. He lifts his eyes for the first time to see a face inches from his own, blue eyes wide with concern, the left one marred by a jagged scar. 

For a second they stay like that and Gyrus gets the strange feeling the man is searching his expression for something, but Gyrus has no idea what it is. He gives the man a sheepish smile. The man breaks off the eye contact, stepping away with a faint tinge of red in his cheeks. Gyrus feels the loss of warmth from his hand instantly. He glances at the man, who crosses his arms and looks away. 'He’s embarrassed,' Gyrus thought as he looked down at his hands. 'It’s probably not every day he has to comfort a grown man who freaks out from seeing his Captain.'

“Gyrus, mi amigo,” Don smiles at him, warm and welcoming. “You seem a bit confused. Why don’t you tell me the last thing you can remember and we’ll help you sort it out.” He places his chin in his hands and leans forward, the picture of perfect attention.

Gyrus links his hands together. “Well, I remember my name. I’m Gyrus, and I’m an engineer on our ship! We’re on an exploratory mission!” He quirked his lips up in a smile at the phrase so often muttered on board. Don does not smile back. Gyrus hastily continues, “There was some kind of crash or accident, wasn’t there Captain Don? I don’t remember the details, but the doc here has been checking me over for any injuries.”

Don and Kodya exchange a glance. Kodya raises an eyebrow in what could almost be triumph. Don’s eyes narrow for a split second. But the moment he turns to look at Gyrus, he’s all smiles again. “That’s very good mi amigo. Now can you tell me whose names you remember?”

“Of course,” Gyrus nods his head eagerly. “There’s you, you’re our Captain Don. You lead everyone. And the doc,” he points over his shoulder with his thumb at the woman whose name he really hoped no one asked him to remember. “Who takes care of us when we’re sick. And…” he takes a breath as he looks at the man in blue, what had the doc said…  
“Kodya!” he says triumphantly.

Kodya visibly jumps. “You remember me?” he asks, mouth open in shock.

“Sure,” Gyrus lies as he scratches the back of his head. “You’re...the nurse...?” he guesses.

Kodya crosses his arms, face falling into a thunderous frown. “I am not a nurse.”

“Oh,” Gyrus lowers his arm. “The gurney then?”

Kodya’s scowl darkens. 

“Gyrus, mi amigo,” Don sighs. “You need to be honest.”

Gyrus lets his shoulders slump. “Yes sir” he gave Kodya a sheepish glance. 

“I don’t actually remember your name or position... I just didn’t want to make things awkward after you helped me.” He looks away, and figures that if he was in for a penny he was in for a pound. “I don’t actually remember the doc clearly either. My head is a bit messed up, but don’t worry!” his head snaps back to look Don in the eye. “I’m sure it will come back! And I still remember how to make things, so I should be good to work!”

Don gives him a long, searching look. Gyrus shifts in his seat, uncomfortable under the pressure of those eyes. Finally, Don says, “Gyrus, mi amigo. You can’t even remember the name of your doctor. I can’t condone you to do any work in this state. It just wouldn’t be healthy.”

“Oh,” Gyrus looks down at his feet, watching them swing back and forth. “I suppose.” 

“Nephthys,” Gyrus glances up to catch the Doctor smiling down at him. “My name is Doctor Nephthys, pleased to meet you Gyrus.”

“Pleased to meet you too,” Gyrus extends his hand. She took it with a giggle.

“Kodya,” the man in blue says as Gyrus lets go of the doctor’s hand. He turns to look at him. “I’m Kodya,” the man called Kodya repeats. “I’m a hunter.”

'Huh?' Gyrus thought to himself as Don sent Kodya a warning look. Kodya freezes and rubs the back of his neck. “...I mean...I hunt..ed through the wreckage and found you. Yeah.” he turns his face away, cheeks burning.

“Kodya here is a regular hero,” Don smiles, but something in its corners was sharp.

“Yeah,” Kodya looks down. “You could say that.” 

'There obviously seems to be more to this story,' Gyrus thought. 'Something they aren’t telling me. But…' he thought as he winces slightly when he puts weight on his feet and sees Kodya’s hand raise as if to catch him. 'He does seem genuinely concerned.'

“Thank you for saving me, Kodya” he takes a step forward and catches Kodya in a quick hug. The man in blue stumbles back, body tense, but Gyrus feels a loose arm slip around his back.

“It’s fine,” Kodya’s grumbles, as he pats Gyrus’s back, “don’t worry about it.”

Gyrus steps back to smile warmly up at the taller man, who seemingly has no idea how to accept basic gratitude.

“Ahem,” Don coughs delicately into his hand. Kodya quickly takes a few backsteps, widening the distance between him and Gyrus, crossing his arms once more. “Gyrus, please walk with me,” Don says as he begins to wheel himself out of the room.

Gyrus gives Kodya and Nephthys both a final smile and a wave before turning to hurry after his captain.

Outside the Medbay, a crowd of people stood. They were a strange bunch, different clothes and styles--was that armor on one of them? Gyrus stares. The people that are gathered outside glare back. In fact, every face seems to carry some form of hostility, except for two: the woman in armor and another woman hanging off her arm looks only concerned.

“Do you recognize anyone Gyrus?” Don asks.

“No sir,” Gyrus shakes his head, clutching his arm closer to his body at the anger in the people’s eyes. The woman in the armor looks stricken. 

Don nods and grabs Gyrus’s wrist. “Come along Gyrus, This way.”

“Don, are you sure you should be alone with him?” A woman steps from the crowd, wild blond hair in spikes atop her head. She glares at Gyrus with open distrust, hand going to… is that a sword?

“It’s fine Ragan” Don gives her a smile. “This way Gyrus,” he gives Gyrus’s wrist a slight tug. Gyrus let him lead them into a side corridor. 

“Captain Don, that woman had a sword!” Gyrus hisses at Don as soon as he figures they’re out of earshot. Don doesn’t seem particularly bothered by this fact. 

“You’ll have to forgive them,” Don spoke as they rounded a corner. “They’ve learned to be cautious.” Gyrus, however, doesn’t see how this explains why a woman was wearing a sword at all but decides not to press the point. Instead, he turns his attention to the corridors around them. 

They’re strange, bare walls and ground seamless. He taps the material with his foot, noticing that it’s not the same plastic from before. He looks up and sees that the ceiling is curved, not straight and square like the roof of the corridor on their ship. “Where are we?” 

Gyrus looks down to see Don watching him, both eyebrows raised in a way that makes him look slightly concerned.  
“Have you forgotten the way to your room as well?”

“I...I guess I have,” Gyrus stares at the unfamiliar passages around him. He’s supposed to recognize this maze? How hard had he hit his head?

“It’s right up ahead,” Don takes pity on him, and nods towards an open door in front of them. “Right inside.”

Gyrus steps hesitantly across the doorway. The first thing that strikes him is how big everything is. Rooms on the ship are supposed to be small, not terribly so, but enough to conserve as many ship members as possible to the number of supplies.

But this room is wide, wider than even the Captain’s room would be. There’s even a second story, with what seems like a computer up the top. The bed also seems too large. “This is very big for one person,” he says.

The door slides shut with a sharp ping. Gyrus whirls around, to see Don sitting outside the window. “Don?” Gyrus tries the handle, but it refuses to budge. A small bit of panic rises in his chest. “Don the door! It won’t open!”

“I’m sorry Gyrus,” Don’s voice came over the speaker, strange and warped, “but you are going to have to stay in here for a while. This is just a precaution. I hope you understand.”

“Don, please!” Gyrus bangs his fists against the window, unable to do anything else. “I don’t understand! Why am I locked in here?!”

“I’m sorry mi amigo,” Don’s face seems genuinely sorry. “But we have to ensure everyone’s safety. Give us a week, until we are sure there are no lingering... pathogens.”

He turned his back and began to wheel away, growing further and further as he disappeared into the maze of strange corridors.

“What do you mean, pathogens?! Don, wait! Please! Don’t leave!” Gyrus calls after him, but it does no good. Don doesn’t return. Gyrus, feeling defeated, slumps forward onto the window. “Don’t leave,” he whispers once more, this time only to himself, and the empty room that was now his prison.


	2. Quarantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyrus is stuck in quarantine.

Gyrus can’t tell how many minutes pass, it could have been hours before he decides to stand up and brush the tears from his eyes. He can’t help but think to himself how everything feels off somehow, but he can’t quite put his finger on it yet. In the back of his mind, a voice calls out. For a second he could almost hear the words.

“Gyrus!”

He shakes his head violently. Pushing aside the strange thoughts, Gyrus walks about the room. Apart from the large bed and the contents on the second floor, there doesn’t actually seem to be too much in here. A desk lay beside the bed, piquing Gyrus’ curiosity as to what lay within the drawer. He closes his fist around the smooth handle, and gives it a sharp tug. The drawer sticks in place. He tries a few more times, but it refuses to budge. He sighs and lets go, not knowing what to do next.

A thought hit him. _What did Captain Don mean by “pathogen?” Do I have some sort of disease? Did I get infected with something in the accident?_

The bed is soft as Gyrus sits down to gather his thoughts. His head falls in his hands as more and more questions keep surfacing in his brain, each one demanding his attention like a nest of angry chicks demanding food from their mother. _Why did that woman have a sword by her side? And Nephthys’s expression when I mentioned the captain for the first time, she was so surprised. What is she hiding? Kodya… did he really save my life? His touch was weirdly soothing, It was strange, but perhaps my body remembers he saved me when my mind doesn’t? And on that note, How did Captain Don lose his legs? What was the accident and why can’t I remember it?_

Gyrus shakes his head. It’s too much for him to handle right now. He falls back on the bed and tries to close his eyes. His muscles slowly relax as he begins to drift away. It feels like he’s walking backward slowly down a darkened corridor. Voices drifted down it, familiar and anxious. Gyrus hurried forward, straining his ears to catch the words.

“You don’t understand!” A voice exclaims. It’s just up ahead, he reaches forward to open the door and confirm the rising suspicion in the back of his mind. 

Two sharp knocks jolt him into consciousness. He turns to see two figures standing in the window. One stood back, round form almost impossible to make out from the tint of the window. Another was standing directly before it, holding a bag in his arms and with a familiar grumpy expression on his scarred face.

“Hey Kid, it’s me. I’ve got food for you.” Kodya’s voice comes over the comms.

Gyrus jumps up, all musings are forgotten in the wake of his grumbling stomach. “Thank god, I’m starving!” He says as Kodya enters the room, the door snapping shut behind him as he does so. Kodya raises a bag of food high and tosses it towards Gyrus in a casual gesture. Gyrus catches it and unwraps the bag to see a familiar sight. “Wait...these are my favorite dumplings!” he exclaims as he shoves one in his mouth.

“Yeah, Oli remembered that you liked them.” Kodya glances away and runs his fingers through his hair.

Gyrus glances up, a dumpling halfway up to his mouth. “Oli?” he asks, mouth still full of dumpling.

“Yeah, He’s our cook. He’s actually right outside.” Kodya gestures behind him, at the rounder shape in the window. Gyrus gave a little wave. The figure outside seems to jump, then slowly begins to wave back. 

Gyrus breaks into a wide grin. “Thank you Oli!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. The man outside jumps again, jerking side to side as if restless. Gyrus shoots Kodya a confused look. “Why didn’t he come inside with you?”

Kodya shrugs. “He’s a bit shy. Give him some time to get used to you.”

“Oh,” Gyrus says, looking down at his feet. The Mandu in his mouth suddenly loses its flavor. “Is it because of the pathogens?”

“Pathogens?” Kodya sounds confused. Gyrus raises an eyebrow, wondering how he doesn’t know about the whole reason Gyrus is in here in the first place. Kodya coughs into his hand. “Pathogens! Yes, I know about the pathogens that you have, your pathogens. Yes.” 

Gyrus raises the other eyebrow. Captain Don hadn’t told the person responsible for not only rescuing him but also delivering his food? That doesn’t sound like the Captain at all. 

“It’s why I’m in this quarantine,” he offers, wondering if perhaps Kodya knew it by a different name.

“Ahhh,” Kodya’s shoulders relax marginally, but his eyebrows draw together with worry. “Those pathogens.” He straightens and puts his hands on his hips. “Yes, there is a chance that there are...pathogens...inside you, so Don’s trying to be cautious. But don’t worry,” he adds as he sees Gyrus’s face drop. “You’ll be fine. You probably won’t show any symptoms, and then you’ll be free to leave.”

“But how long am I going to be stuck here? What if I do have these pathogens? What then? What if I’m stuck sick forever?” Gyrus cried out as his breath started to come faster and faster. 

“Stop that!” Kodya snaps, dropping down so he is at Gyrus’s eye level. His hand hovered over Gyrus’s shoulder, but did not make contact. “Don’t overthink. You’ll just make yourself sick with worry.” Gyrus blinks as the sharp blue eyes bore into him. It made him feel like a child who had messed up in front of a teacher. Kodya sighs. “Look, just find something to do ok? Don’t stew all day in here. Find something to do, invent something! You like doing that.” He grins, wide and warm. Gyrus decides to take comfort in the kindness and leave the obvious question of how Kodya knew he likes inventing for later.

“I can do that.” Gyrus nods back at Kodya. He hesitates, then asks, “Do you have any requests?” Before Kodya can answer, a beeping noise goes off at his side. He pulled out a radio and scowled down at it. 

“I’m out of time.” He gives Gyrus an apologetic smile and turns back to the door.

“Wait!” Gyrus thrusts out a hand to grab hold of Kodya’s wrist. “Where are you going?”

Kodya sighs, and gently pulls his wrist out of Gyrus’ grasp. He holds the radio aloft. “These visits are timed. Ten minutes each.” Gyrus’s heart plummets. So soon? He’d only get to see people for ten minutes a meal? How would he survive?

“Oh don’t look at me like that.” Kodya rolls his eyes. His voice breaks Gyrus out of his thoughts. “I’ll be back with dinner later. In the meantime,” he points directly at Gyrus, expression stern. “Find something productive to do! That’s an order!” The door slams shut in front of him, blocking him from view.

Gyrus runs to the window, pressing his face close to see outside the dim tinting. Kodya appears to be talking to the other figure, Oli he’d called him, in some kind of disagreement. Finally, Kodya pinches his nose and turns to walk away, the other figure races after him, shooting worried looks back at Gyrus as he did so. Gyrus watches until they round the bend, and out of sight. Then he sinks down to the ground, alone once more.

Gyrus didn’t spend hours on the ground this time though. Not when now he had a better grasp of what’s going on. Kodya said he would come back at dinnertime, and even though Gyrus is absolutely certain that Kodya was leaving details out when it came to why exactly Gyrus was in quarantine, he hadn’t shown any signs of ill intent. If anything, he seemed more like a nurse who was trying to convince a patient that he wasn’t dying so his immune system would kick in better. In all honesty, Gyrus isn’t certain Kodya wasn’t doing just that. Or some sort of equivalent. They are letting him visit after all.

_Unless he’s infected too, because he saved you._ A small voice whispers in his mind. He shakes his head. Now is not the time for guilt. He looks around the room. Invent something, hadn’t that been what Kodya had said to do? He rolls up his sleeves. Time to get to it then.  
\---------------

The mega-awesome extreme slide might have been a bit overkill. In Gyrus’s defense, he was very bored, and without knowledge of what exactly it was that had been damaged in the ship, he didn’t really have any way to make devices to fix it. He’d tried asking Kodya when he came to bring his meals, but the man was awfully cagey about exactly what was going on outside. He’s cagey about a lot of things actually: what his position on the ship is, what the symptoms of the pathogen are, what Captain Don’s plan is, and when Gyrus is going to be let out. He never does much talking at all really, instead, he directs the conversation to what Gyrus had done in the time he’d been away.

The reports make Gyrus feel a bit like he was once again talking to a teacher, a very unimpressed teacher who thought Gyrus could do so much better than what he was doing. At first, he had tried to keep his inventions as practical and normal as possible. Like battery containers, because who doesn’t need extra battery containers? And deluxe storage compartments, because everyone needs more space to fit things on a ship in space. Neither of these seemed to impress Kodya much, and Gyrus was beginning to despair, when he built the galaxy map on a whim. It was a pretty useless device, but Kodya’s eyes had lit up when he showed him the holographic stars, and it had been the only device he had taken with him out of the room. 

Gyrus began to craft a theory, one of which almost felt rude to think. But, given he had absolutely nothing better to do, it was one he was willing to test. He built another device, a simple enough thing that recorded voices and reshuffled them into saying silly phrases in the person’s voice. The corner of Kodya’s mouth had twitched up, a cue that let Gyrus know he was right.

Kodya had no idea what it was that engineers did. 

Not that it was really his fault! He was bringing food to a patient, not giving out work assignments. 

This whole invention deal was purely for Gyrus’ sake, to help him keep his sanity and not freak out every time he coughed. So really, it made sense that Kodya, being in charge of Gyrus’s health...probably...or at least was invested in it after the rescue, wouldn’t actually know the finer aspects of his job. Still, Gyrus thought as he thought of Kodya’s disapproving frowns. He sure knew how to look the part of an unimpressed boss.

Now knowing what his audience wanted to see, Gyrus decided to make inventions so utterly flashy and Loony Toons-esque, that they would make even his grumpy companion smile. Hence, the super mega-awesome extreme slide. 

He stands at the top of what had once been the stairs, ready to give it a test run before Kodya arrived. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a figure move below him. It’s a man in blue, doing pushups on the carpet. Kodya? Gyrus leans forward, trying to get a closer look, but he leaned too far over the edge and onto the slick surface of the slide. “Eeep!” he shrieks as he tumbles down the slide, face-first into the pile of pillows he had placed at the bottom. 

He jumps up, glancing around wildly, but no one else is there. The carpet is empty and there’s no one in sight, just the pile of pillows and the super special mega-awesome extreme slide. 

“Who’s there?” he calls out.

“Just me,” a voice replies from the direction of the speakers. Gyrus’s head whips around, to see the round figure of Oli standing outside the window. 

“Hey, Oli!” Gyrus perks up. 

The figure behind the window starts, “You know my name?”

“Of course!” Gyrus exclaims, however, Oli does not look reassured. “Kodya mentioned you,” Gyrus adds, sending him a sheepish smile.

Oli appears to relax a bit. “Oh, That makes sense.” He hesitates, then pushes the button to open the door. “I’m coming in...!” he shouts. “Stay over there...!”

Gyrus obediently waits in the pile of pillows for Oli to shut the door. Oli approaches carefully, leaving the food in the center of the room and then retreats to the door. Gyrus hurried quickly to the food and gave an exclamation of delight when he opened it.

“It’s dumplings again!” he shoots Oli a smile. “These are my favorite!”

“Yeah, I know,” Oli replies. “I remembered.” He looks away seemingly… afraid?

Gyrus glances over at Oli as he ate. “Still,” he said between bites. “It’s impressive to remember anyone’s favorite food on a ship this large. It must take a lot of talent to be the ship’s cook.”

Oli shifts his weight from foot to foot, “Yeah, ship’s cook,” he says, voice dull. “That’s me. Real impressive.” 

“But cooking is really important!” Gyrus protests, bits of dumpling falling from the corners of his mouth. “You’re the backbone of this whole crew! No one could survive without you!”

Oli sighs. “You’re right. It’s just not much fun is all.” He gestures to the super special mega-awesome extreme slide of doom. “Now that, that looks like fun.”

Gyrus straightens, feeling prideful. “Would you like a ride? I made it to show off to Kodya but,” he glances down at the food in his hands, “I guess he’s not coming today.”

“Yeah, he was only covering for me,” Oli admits as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “But I could check it out instead.”

“Come along,” Gyrus steps out of the way, one hand behind his back like a butler ushering a guest inside a dwelling. Oli climbs the stairs as Gyrus watches from below. Carefully, Oli lowers himself into the slide. He gives a little hop to dislodge himself from the safety of the second floor and flies down the slide. “Woohoo!” he cries as he raises his hands in the air. With a woosh, he collides with the pile of pillows at the bottom.

“Yay Oli!” Gyrus cheers, waving a fist in the air in celebration. Oli laughs as he pops up among the pillows, face split ear to ear with a wide grin. 

“That was amazing Gyrus!” he exclaims as he wades back through the pillows toward him. 

“Thank you, I try.” Gyrus preens under the attention. _It’s so nice to be appreciated for once._ “Would you like to go again?”  
Oli pauses, looking from the slide to the door. “Actually,” he says as he straightens his shoulders. “Could I ask you to do something for me?”

Gyrus’s insides begin to twist with excitement. “What is it? A commission?” his voice comes out high pitched. It had been so long since he’d had any work that actually mattered. “What do you need me to make?”

“Just a second.” Oli exits the room and pulls something else through the doorway. He holds it up for Gyrus to see as the door closes behind him. 

“I know you don’t remember designing this, but do you think you could fix it?”

_A coffee machine?_ Gyrus thought as he surveyed the device before him. It doesn’t look fancy, just a dime a dozen coffee machine. He doesn’t remember designing it at all. But then again… 

“I guess I can take a look,” he smiles at Oli.

The timer in Oli’s pocket went off. 

“Oh,” Gyrus looks down. “I suppose you need to go now.” 

But Oli only shrugs as he lowers himself to the floor. “It’s fine. I’m getting a commission. Besides,” he adds as he runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s been ages and you’ve never hurt Kodya, you can’t be that dangerous.”

_“Hurt Kodya?” Why those words…? Shouldn’t it be “infect Kodya?” What exactly did this pathogen make people do? Is he talking about something else?_ Gyrus thought as he absently began to open up the coffee machine. _Why hasn’t Kodya ever asked for a commission to stay longer?’_ Another part of his brain grumbles. _I thought he was becoming my friend._

Oli is watching him intently, so Gyrus figures he better explain what’s up with the coffee machine. “There are a lot of missing and damaged pieces...I don’t think there’s much I can do without the right parts.” 

“Like what?” Oli asks as he leans forward. 

“Well, like this,” Gyrus holds up a broken piece, “It should be symmetrical, but it looks like it’s been snapped in half.” 

“Hmm…” Oli picks up the piece and turns it in his hands. “Seems to be made of some metal and plastic.” He reaches behind him to a bag that’s now out of Gyrus’s sight. There was a quick, bright blue glow and Oli turned around triumphantly to reveal a completed piece. 

“What?” Gyrus gasps. “Where did you find that?” _What was that strange blue light?_ Gyrus doesn’t say. 

Oli freezes, face draining of all color. “I..er..it..I mean…” Gyrus looks up at him, waiting for him to provide his answer. Oli coughs awkwardly into his fist. “I just happened to have some pieces...in my bag.” 

“Really?” Gyrus asks, disbelieving but not wanting to voice it and drive away the longest conversation he’s had with someone in almost a week. “Can I see the bag? It could speed up…” 

“NO!” Oli clutched it closer to his chest, his whole body curling protectively around it. Gyrus blinks, startled. 

“I mean,” Oli says as he slowly loosens his grip. “T-The bag is very important to me. I don’t like other people touching it.” 

“The bag is important,” Gyrus repeats, voice flat. Oli nods furiously. “Okay,” Gyrus shrugs. It isn’t any of his business as to what a man wants to keep private. Still, a bag full of parts...he sneaks a glance at Oli, who is trying to sneak something out of it without Gyrus noticing. _Is he trying to be an engineer? He does seem less than thrilled with his job. Not that it’s any of my business._ He returns his attention to the coffee machine. 

The work went far faster than Gyrus would have liked. Every few seconds, he would run into a missing piece, then Oli would ask what it looks like and would then make an effort to turn around so Gyrus couldn’t see him reach into the bag where there would be that strange blue light and he would turn around with the perfect piece. Gyrus is...73% certain that the blue light was a mini flashlight to search for the tiny pieces in his bag. It...disturbs him that the number isn’t higher. Things have been so strange since he’d woken up after the crash. That blue man, who hadn’t really been there, Oli’s fear that he might hurt Kodya, a sickness no one is willing to explain. He was beginning to suspect it wasn't a simple case of space flu. 

Gyrus shakes his head to clear it as he inserts the last piece. “There, that should do it!” he says with a smile. 

“Wow,” Oli says as he pushes one of the buttons. “It's turning on! Thank you!” 

Gyrus laughs a real, honest laugh. He doesn’t remember the last time he had felt that warm. “It’s no problem! Anything else you need to have fixed, bring it to me!” He looks up at Oli, eyes wide and hopeful. “Is there anything else you need to have fixed?” 

“Not that I have with me,” Oli admits. Gyrus’s shoulders droop at his words. Oli bites his lip. “But you know-” Gyrus glances up to meet his eyes, “- I could probably bring something the next time I come,” Oli glances down at the radio and grimaces, “But it’s almost time to start making dinner.” He hurries over to the door, waving as he does so. “See you next time!” 

“Next time!” Gyrus straightens as he speaks. Then pauses. “Oh and Oli?” 

“Yeah?” Oli sticks his head around the door. 

“Tell Kodya I have a slide to show him, whenever he has to sub again ok?” Gyrus rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward.  
Something in Oli’s face softens. “Of course.” Then an almost mischievous grin crosses his face. “But you can tell him yourself. He’ll probably have to sub for me for dinner if I’m this late.” He winks at Gyrus and was gone.  
\--------------- 

True to Oli’s word, Kodya comes to deliver dinner, grumpy as ever. He seems more confused than excited when Gyrus shows him the super special mega-awesome extreme slide of doom and destruction. He follows Gyrus up the stairs slowly, and delicately places his legs on its slick surface. “How does this work?” he asks as Gyrus gives him a sharp shove from behind. The scream of betrayal that he emits as he flies down the slide echoes throughout the whole room, but halfway down, it changes into a cry of delight. He pops up out of the pillows at the base, knocking them aside like a kid with freshly fallen snow. 

“What was that?” he exclaims as he looks back up at Gyrus, face open in the first smile Gyrus has ever seen on his otherwise stoic face. “It was like the sledding I did when I was a boy back home!” 

Gyrus raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never seen a slide before?" 

Shutters seem to fall across Kodya’s eyes as the warm joy is replaced with calm detachment. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, as he crosses his arms and looks away. 

“I’m sorry,” Gyrus offers because he doesn’t know what he’d said to upset him. “Do you...want to go again?” 

Kodya nods then jumps as his radio goes off. “Kodya,” Captain Don’s voice echoes over the radio, “You’re needed in the command room immediately.” 

“Roger that,” Kodya says into the radio. He glances up at Gyrus, looking almost apologetic for a sliver of a second. “I have to go.” 

“That’s fine. I understand.” Gyrus crosses his wrists on the banister. “Maybe you can go again next time?” 

“Sure kid.” Kodya glances to the side as if watching for something Gyrus couldn’t see. “If Oli needs me to sub again.” Gyrus frowns, but Kodya looks up and catches his eye. “I will see you later,” he says, placing an odd inflection on the words. Gyrus gets the impression he’s trying to tell him something, but he isn’t certain what it is. Is he trying to tell him he’d be released soon? 

“I’ll see you later Kodya,” Gyrus replies, watching as Kodya nods and walks out the door. As it slams shut, he sighs and relaxes on the super special mega awesome extreme slide of doom, destruction, and disappointment, feeling oddly lethargic as he lets it carry him down into the pillows. He lays there, staring at the ceiling, as the lights in the hall outside go out one by one. 

It’s dark, how is it dark? He didn’t turn off the light. But somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. The path before him, although shrouded in shadows, is painfully familiar. It’s the ship, as it should look, plastic beneath his feet and doors rectangular instead of arched. In front of him is the command room, looming large and open. He enters carefully, glancing around as he crosses the threshold. 

In the corner, two figures sit, locked in an argument. One is almost entirely hidden in a black cape. The other is in rough shape, yellow jumpsuit in tatters on his chest. His short hair is mussed and his build is terrifyingly familiar. “Who are you?” Gyrus asks.  
The two figures jump to their feet as he enters. “Me?” The one in black smirks. “I’m the one who created this place, based on my memories…” 

The shorter one elbows him in the ribs, cutting him off. 

“Stop being overdramatic.” He turns so Gyrus could see him clearly, even in the shadows, making Gyrus gasp. 

“Yes,” says the other Gyrus, “We’re you.” He flops his hands in mock celebration. Gyrus took a step back. The other Gyrus reaches out a hand to stop him. “Please don’t freak out! It’s not that weird.” 

“Y-You’re…!” Gyrus stutters. 

“You’re me? Is that what you’re going to say?” The man in the cloak pulls off his own hood, revealing Gyrus’s own face, eyes creased with age. “Shouldn’t you be saying ‘I’m you?’ After all, I came first…” 

“Oh, will you stop pushing your seniority around all the time?” snaps the Gyrus with shorter hair. “It’s not that impressive.” 

The older Gyrus grits his teeth. “I built this place, I know what’s going on, so yes, I think my seniority is important if it gives him the relevant information.” 

“And what could you possibly tell him that’s important?” The Gyrus with shorter hair whirls in on the older one. “How to kill twelve people?” 

“That’s not what happened! Which you would understand if you went back and looked through the memories like I told you too!” The older Gyrus gestures backward towards an open door that suddenly appears on the wall. 

“What do you think I am? Stupid?” The younger Gyrus pushed his finger into the older’s chest. “I know I’m only still here because I didn’t look!”  
“It doesn’t work like that…” Older Gyrus grabs the younger's hand and pushes it away. 

Gyrus looks between the two versions of himself and begins to back away slowly from the fighting. _This has to be a dream, a very, very strange dream that has revealed some quite frankly unnerving things about my psyche._ “I think I’m just gonna go…” he says as he points toward the exit. 

“No, Wait!” the two other Gyruses--Gyri? Should he use the latin plural when talking about alternate versions of himself?--call out in unison. It’s almost comical, to see the matching expressions of dismay and worry on their faces--face?--as they reach out for him. 

“Please,” the younger says with a pleading look. “We really do need to talk! He may be the worst,” he glares sideways at the older, “-but we both agree that you need to know how dangerous it is out there!” 

“Don’t blindly follow what others tell you.” adds the older. “You have to find your own cause.” 

Gyrus feels sweat form on his brow. “I think you two may be overreacting.” 

“No we aren’t!” The younger shakes his head. “There are monsters…!” 

“Gyrus?” A voice cuts through his dreams. He sees both Gyri reach to grab him, but it’s too late, he’s already speeding towards consciousness at rapid speed. 

“I’m awake!” Gyrus jumps to his hands and knees, looking left and right as spots swim before his eyes. The pillows are soft underneath him as he tries to get a grip on his surroundings. 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Captain Don’s voice runs over him, sounding amused. He snaps to attention, hand raised in salute as he begins to focus on the scene before his eyes. 

Captain Don is in his wheelchair positioned in the open door. To his left stands Kodya, one eyebrow raised at Gyrus’ sorry state. He fights the urge to run his hand through his hair to straighten it and wishes he had at least gotten to his bed before he had fallen asleep. On the captain’s right, arms crossed and nose upturned is a mountainous woman. She looks kind of familiar. Gyrus’s eyes spread wide as his sleepy brain makes the connection. It’s the woman with the sword! A quick glance to her hip reveals she certainly still had it. Why is she allowed to have that thing? 

Don doesn’t seem at all bothered by the sharp metal clanking against his wheelchair. Instead, he gives Gyrus his warmest smile. “Congratulations Gyrus, we have decided you are clear of the pathogen. As of this moment, you are out of quarantine!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don watching Gyrus make a slide through the secret camera, "This man, _this man_ has been the thorn in my side for years?! _This man!"_


	3. Uncertainty

“I’m free? Really?” Gyrus jumps to his feet. “That’s great!” He takes a step forward but forgets the pillows are there and trips over one, sending himself falling face-forward. He throws his hands out to catch himself, but they end up hitting one of the structural supports of the slide. A solid pull dislodges it and Gyrus has a single second to think ‘Shit’ before the ex super special mega-awesome extreme slide of doom, destruction, and disappointment comes crashing down on his head. 

“Ouch!” Gyrus sputters as he pushes the debris off of himself. He pops back out of the wreckage to grin widely at Captain Don. “When do I start working?” he asks, hoping that Captain Don would take the hint and kindly not point out the broken slide lying in pieces all around them. 

“Are you okay?” Kodya demands.

_ ‘Oh no, he’s one of those,’ _ Gyrus thought. Out loud he said. “Me? I’m in tip-top working shape!” He gives him a thumbs up and smiles. Kodya looks anything but convinced. 

“Your invention just fell on you,” he points out, arms crossed. The woman shot him an absolutely disgusted look. 

“It’s supposed to do that,” Gyrus lies. 

“Ahah!” The woman shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger, other hand reaching for the sword hilt. “He is trying to kill people with that cursed contraption!” She turns to Don, face twisted in a grotesque smirk. “Let me…”

“Ragan,” Don sighs, cutting her off. “He’s not trying to kill people with a slide.” He folds his hands and leans forward in his chair. “You shouldn’t lie about failures that could get people hurt Gyrus, even if it’s only yourself.” His smile is welcoming, but in his words, both the woman called Ragan and Kodya draw back, crossing their arms and frowning down at Gyrus.

Gyrus looks down, suddenly feeling very small. “It won’t happen again, Captain.”

“See to it,” Don said with a nod. “Any...incidents are to be reported directly to me, or Kodya. Understood?”

Ragan looks shocked, eyebrows drawing together like a black cloud. Kodya straightens his shoulders and lifts his chin, but shoots Ragan a smirk over Captain Don’s head. Gyrus wonders what that’s all about. A power struggle in the higher ranks? If so, it seems Kodya is more important than he thought previously.  _ And so is the crazy lady _ , his brain adds. Isn’t that just wonderful?

“Yes sir,” he says, trying to look as politely uninterested in the ship’s politics as he can. Don seems to find it acceptable and breaks into a wide smile.

“Come along, mi amigo! We’ve got to show you to your new job!” He turns his wheelchair in a three-point turn to exit the doorway. Kodya turns to follow him, back straight. Ragan pauses before the door. She draws her sword fully from its sheath and brandishes it in the air. The air hums with electricity as she points it toward Gyrus. “Try anything. Put one toe out of line, and I will kill you. Clear?” Gyrus freezes, unable to move, unable to think, only staring at the wickedly sharp tip as it dances with electricity. 

“Ragan!” Captain Don snaps, voice sharp as a whip. The woman scowls, then lowers the blade. She turns sharply and walks out the door, but Gyrus notices she doesn’t put the sword back in its sheath. 

He stands, surrounded by the wreckage of his own creation, and finds himself hesitating. He had wanted that door to open so desperately before, but now as it is, he begins to wonder what exactly is waiting on the other side if this was the kind of reception he received on his first day. 

“Gyrus!” a voice calls from inside him, sounding strangely like his own. He shakes his head, and darts out the door after the terrifying woman. Whatever lurks outside surely can’t be as scary as going mad in here. 

\--------

No one speaks on the long walk to their destination. Kodya’s silence isn’t too much of a surprise, Gyrus is beginning to think he doesn't like small talk. Ragan doesn’t speak either, but her footsteps are tight and angry and Gyrus figures her silence is probably a good thing. He tries to keep his head down and stick to Kodya’s side of the walkway. He even tries not to breathe too loudly, all in hopes as to not attract attention from the crazy woman’s very sharp sword. Captain Don rolls ahead, seemingly oblivious to the problems behind him.

“Here we are! Your new job Gyrus,” Don sweeps his hand forward as they reach a door. Gyrus takes an eager step inside, skirting as far away from Ragan as he can. The inside is...well, it is something. Instead of desks full of inventions and tools, rows of sinks are on one side and stalls on another. Two are open to reveal the backs of people on their knees, scrubbing. A man stands in front of one sink, with a mop in his hands, a person of ambiguous gender is leaning against the other, blocking his path.

Gyrus blinks. “Isn’t this a restroom…?” Gyrus tugs at his sleeve. Did Captain Don open the wrong door by mistake?

“Yes,” Captain Don smiles. “You are going to be helping Tori and Slyvia as they complete their chores, with Anan and Feather’s supervision of course.” 

_ Oh no, _ thinks Gyrus, _ Are they seriously putting me in janitorial duty? I’m an engineer! Surely sickness or no I should at least be fixing something? _

“Gyrus?” two heads poke out of the stalls, breaking into two wide grins. They look vaguely familiar, but Gyrus couldn’t for the life of him place why. The woman laughs and runs to his side. The pink-haired one throws her arms around him and squeezes while the other grabs his arm in one hand and his cheek in the other with an almost motherly touch. “Thy color has improved,” the red-haired one murmurs. “Have they been treating ye well?”

“I guess?” Gyrus laughs nervously, pulling slightly out of their reach. “I’m sorry,” he scratches his cheek, “but have we met?”

The two women exchange glances, the red-haired one places a hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly. “The healer informed us of your condition. She says it is best if ye get together thou memories for thou self,” Gyrus bites his lip and the woman adds, “But yes, we have met.” Her eyes slide to the left, Gyrus following her gaze, to see her glaring at the Captain. “Ye have been very brave Gyrus,” she finishes with another pat on his shoulder. 

“Ahem,” Captain Don coughs lightly into his fist. Gyrus and the girls turn to face him, Kodya, and Ragan. Both of the girls push him behind them.  _ Is it my imagination, or do the two girls seem like they’re trying to protect me? But what are they afraid of? It’s only the Captain. Maybe it’s Ragan... _ As if to emphasize Gyrus' thoughts, Don smiles warmly. 

“So glad to see you all getting along. But let's get some introductions done, shall we? Gyrus, meet Tori,” he gestures to the redhead on Gyrus’s left, “and Slyvia.” He says, gesturing to the pinkette on the right. “They are rookies helping keep our ship running. And you two already know Gyrus,” his eyes met Tori’s, “He’s not feeling like himself though, so do be careful with him.” 

“Of course,” Tori rises to her full height, one hand balled up into a fist. “But I am not some rookie squire, I am the champion of the Queen. I can be trusted to protect those that need it.” She glares directly at Kodya. 

Gyrus blinks.  _ What? There haven’t been any Queens for years. Is it a nickname or a joke I’ve forgotten? _

Don throws back his head and lets out an easy laugh. “Ah, mi amiga, your imagination brings light to every situation!” Gyrus feels a drop of sweat slip down his forehead as he sees Tori grit her teeth. _ Imagination? Wait… _ he watches Tori take a deep breath, reaching down as if to grasp an imaginary sword. _ It couldn’t be. Is this woman a cosplayer? I thought they’d all died out with WW3... _

“Wouldn’t I be more useful in engineering?” Gyrus asks, making one final bid to escape his fate. Kodya opens his mouth as if to say something.

“The engineering position is temporarily suspended,” Captain Don explains, leading to Kodya shutting his mouth. “We’ve put you here so you can fix what is broken around the ship quicker.” He smiles like this is the most sensible thing to do. Gyrus nodded along, but inside he feels like screaming.  _ Who suspends Engineering? We literally live on a ship that could explode at any moment!  _

_ “That’s right!” _ A voice cheers in his head. _ “Dons the worst!” _

_ “Shut up!” _ Another said.  _ “He’s just taking necessary precautions so this Gyrus doesn’t end up like you!” _ Gyrus sincerely hopes that’s just his imagination talking.

“Anan will give you a list of chores to complete,” Captain Don continues. The man by the sink steps up. Gyrus tries not to start as he appears. He completely forgot about him and his companion. “Lunch is at noon. I’ll be back to check on you after that. Work hard!” He raises a hand to wave goodbye. Gyrus watches him go, hand twitching to grab him and beg him to please reconsider opening engineering, but the Captain is already out the door. 

Kodya and Ragan both hesitate, like they want to stay. “Ragan,” Don calls. Her back straightens, one final glance down her nose at Tori, Slyvia, and Gyrus then she's gone. Kodya hesitates another minute, glancing between Gyrus, Tori, and Slyvia but hurries from the room. 

Holding back a sigh, Gyrus paints on his best smile and turns to survey his new surroundings. At least his new team seems friendly. He sticks out his hand to the man he assumes is Anan. “Hello! I’m Gyrus! A pleasure to be working with you!” 

“Yeah, ok,” Anan looks away, deliberately ignoring the hand. “Just do your job and don’t cause any trouble.” Gyrus’s smile dims for a second, but he consciously brightens it once more to turn to the other person.

“Don’t even try it,” they said before Gyrus could even open his mouth. They turn away from him. Gyrus feels his shoulders droop as the smile slips off his face.  _ So much for a friendly team. _

“Don’t mind them,” Tori says, crossing her arms. “Some people are simply not worth ye time. Isn’t that right, Slyvia?” The pink-haired girl nods, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder and gives Gyrus a hearty pat on the back. Hurt briefly crosses Anan’s expression. Then he narrows his eyes. “Okay, Mr. Ladies Man, let’s see how good you are at scrubbing toilets!”

\------------

The next few hours are some of the most grueling labor Gyrus has ever done in his life. And he had once built a hundred-pound engine in a single night! Gyrus silently vows to be nicer to janitors for now on, only that he’s a janitor now… isn’t he? He glances over at Tori, who’s mopping next to him.  _ Maybe that’s why they were so willing to welcome me in; one janitor to another and all that. _

He stares at the water as it moves with his mop. There has to be a more effective way to get this done, one that didn’t involve so much hard work. Maybe he could invent something to help? Unfortunately, as much as he wracks his brain, he can’t think of a single thing.

Feather, who spent most of the time chilling by the sink and unmoving when they needed to clean it, making things very awkward, straightens up, and stretches. “I’m going to get myself chilled out before lunch. See ya.” They yawn and begin to move out of the room.

“Wait!” Anan shrieks, grabbing their arm. “You’ve got to stay longer, help supervise!” He sends Feather a pained grin. “Do not leave me alone with him,” he hisses in a voice Gyrus is certain he was not supposed to hear.

Feather shrugs. “You’ve got it under control. If you die before lunch, Then we’ll know this whole thing was pointless.”

Anan’s mouth gapes open like a fish.

“Babe? Feather, do  _ not _ leave me to die to prove a point! Where’s the bond we used to have? Sweetie? Darling? Please?” However, despite his words of desperation, Feather is already walking out. Anan hangs on the door frame, still calling out sweet nothings as Tori rolls her eyes. Eventually, he succumbs to leaning against the wall, all energy drained out of him. “You think you know a guy,” he sighs.

“Anan?” Gyrus asks., making Anan freeze. Slowly he turns, eyes wide as he looks at Gyrus as if he were a time bomb about to go off.

Gyrus shuffles his feet. “What are Feather’s pronouns? I didn’t catch them.”

Anan blinks, relaxing his shoulders. “They’re a them, although you should probably talk to them as little as you can. Otherwise, you’ll ruin their high.” 

Gyrus nods and turns back to his mop. He feels Anan’s eyes on him and tries to look as non-threatening as possible. Eventually, Anan rises from his position slumped against the doorframe. “Okay,” he says, clapping his hands together, “we should probably drop this stuff in the cleaning closet. Gyrus,” he points toward him, “you’ll carry the brooms and mops.” Gyrus nods as he runs to pick them up. The corner of Anan’s mouth twitches upward. 

“I will carry the buckets,” Tori volunteers. “I know where they go.” 

Slyvia gives an exclamation of agreement and trots up to Anan. As she passes Gyrus, she gives him a wink. The group begins to walk down the hallway. Tori is in the lead, marching with confident steps. Gyrus hurries to keep his pace with her. Slyvia and Anan take up the rear while engaging in conversation. 

Slyvia is asking him about his home and the work out he’d do there. Anan is eating it up, bragging about his own strength and skill in the way Gyrus has seen so many people do before when someone pretty is watching. He stifled a giggle. Gradually, Slyvia slows her pace Anan follows suit, too caught up in her attention to give thought to anything else.

Tori reaches the closet and pushes the door open sharply. She begins to grumble to herself as she pushes objects around to place the buckets. “Get in here,” she snaps loudly at Gyrus. “Ye need to learn this.”

Gyrus obligingly pushes into the narrow space beside her. It’s cramped but not nearly as bad as he thought: enough room for two people to move comfortably and not touch.

“Where do the brooms go?” he asks, then gives a yelp as Tori grabs his ear and pulls it close to her mouth.

“Quiet!” she hisses as he winces and rubs the spot she yanked on. “We do not have much time. Slyvia cannot keep that imbecile occupied forever.”

“What?” Gyrus stares at her, uncomprehending. Tori rolls her eyes.

“Just listen Gyrus.” She casts a glance over her shoulder at the two behind them. “Something is very wrong here. I’m not sure what, but whatever they did to thou? It wasn’t natural.”

“I don’t understand,” Gyrus said, furrowing his brow. Is this part of her cosplay? The textbooks did say it had been very immersive, but something about the genuine fear in her eyes stops him from dismissing her entirely. It reminds him too much of another look he’d seen in a dream, or a dream of a dream, but on his own face. He stops dwelling on it and speaks up.“What is wrong?”

“Something to do with swords and shadows, I don’t know yet,” she shook her head. “Just please, please...don’t put the brooms on the floor like that! We’ll trip!” She suddenly shouts, mock outrage in her voice. Gyrus raises an eyebrow, confused. 

“What’s all this?” Anan appears over Tori’s shoulder. Beside him Sylvia mouths ‘sorry.’

Tori rises to her feet with a huff. “This imbecile does not understand how brooms are supposed to be stowed.”

Gyrus blushes and jumps to his feet as well, “I’m sorry, I’m still learning.” He gives Anan an apologetic smile, however, Anan frowns at him then shrugs. 

“Next time stack them upright like this,” he pushes forward and straightens them up.

“See?”

“Yes! Thank you, sir!” Gyrus nods rapidly. Slyvia sends Anan a thumbs up and playfully punches Gyrus in the arm. 

Tori straightens. “If we are done, I would like to go to lunch.”

“Of course,” Anan nods. “We could all use some food,’ he says while winking at Slyvia, “and I know just where to get the good stuff!”

“Oli,” Gyrus nods, pleased he finally has something he can contribute, but everyone stares at him. “The guy who makes all the food?” Gyrus offers as he spreads his hand. “He brought me meals.” 

“Oli?” Slyvia asks as she moves toward Gyrus. Anan hastily jumps in between them. “Why don’t we all get going to lunch? Where my totally not named sources can get us all the extra grub!” He shoots Gyrus an angry look as he ushers her away. 

“Figures even now he’d take team Oli.” he grumbled under his breath. Tori follows after them with another roll of her eyes.

Gyrus watches them all heading out, mind in turmoil. They seem normal enough, but what had Tori been trying to tell him when she’d pulled him down? Why didn’t she want Anan to know what she was saying? And why had she seemed so afraid? Something isn’t right here. 

“You can say that again,” The voice whispers in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cosplayers, always the first to die in world wars...


	4. The Closet Gang Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyrus gains allies and a secret base.

Gyrus doesn’t get an opportunity to ask Tori what’s going on, until Oli comes to pay them a visit the next day. “I have muffins!” he says as he eases into the room, a heavenly scent wafting from the open box in his hands. 

“Yay!” Sylvia squeals, dropping her mop and running over to his side, mouth watering. Gyrus looks up from his position at the sink beside Tori and smiles warmly at Oli as he blushes at Syl’s enthusiasm. 

Anan scowls. “What are you doing here Oli?” His voice is casual, but his arms are crossed. 

Oli shifts from foot to foot. “Well, I just figured, you do so much for us, and don’t get much of a thank you, so it’s really the least I could do.” He looks away as Sylvia reaches for a muffin. 

“Don’t!” Anan cries out, hand catching Sylvia’s wrist. She frowns at him and he gives a sheepish smile as he lets go. “I mean, you’ve got to wash your hands first, for health reasons.”

Sylvia pouts and Anan sighs. “But you can have some after you wash up.” Sylvia’s whole face lights up, beaming at Anan like he had just told her Christmas is coming early. She runs toward Gyrus and Tori, stopping directly in front and tapping her foot impatiently as Tori finishes wiping down a sink for her to use. 

Gyrus hides a grin as he leans back against the wall, watching Oli and Anan have what appears to be a silent conversation. It’s nice to see Oli again, to see anyone friendly really. Everything has been so strange since he’d been put on janitor duty. Everyone seems to give him the cold shoulder, and he doesn’t know what he did wrong. Captain Don told him it was all in his head, but from the way Tori had looked when he said it, he wasn’t so sure. 

“Clean thy hands Gyrus,” Tori calls as she finishes the sink. “I do not think Sylvia will wait for ye.”

He does so and hurries back over to Oli to grab a warm muffin. Flavor explodes in his mouth as he bit in and he groans with pleasure at the taste. “Oli this is fantastic!” he says, crumbs falling from his still full mouth. Tori nods her agreement.

“It’s amazing!” Sylvia emotes, hearts forming in her eyes. Oli blushes and rubs the back of his head. “You really think so?”

Anan takes a vicious bite of his muffin. “It’s alright, but nothing compared to my grandma’s cookies.”

“You’re grandma makes cookies?” Gyrus asks.

Anan’s shoulders hunch. “Yeah, she does. Gazelle ankles. Better than anything on the planet.”

“So it's a sweet meat?” asks Tori, leaning forward eagerly.

“No!” Anan shook his head. “It’s like a pastry with cinnamon and almond and orange water.”

“Really?” Sylvia communicates, practically vibrating with excitement. “Can you make it?”

Anan puffs up his chest. “Of course I can! Granny taught me herself!” Oli scowls.

“Then maybe you’d like to make the deserts this meal, instead of leaving all the work to me.” He says as he shoves the now empty box into Anan’s hands.

“Do it!” Sylvia gives a thumbs up. Gyrus grins.

“I too would like to try your special cookies at dinner tonight.” Tori steps forward.

Oli places a heavy hand on Anan’s shoulders. “You heard them. Looks like you’re gonna be helping me.” Anan looks back at them, eyes wide and pleading, to be met with three identical, eager grins.

He sighs. “Fine. But you three stay and finish up here. Especially you.” He points directly at Gyrus, who widens his eyes at the accusation. “Sylvia’s in charge.” He jerks his thumb at her, and sends her a goofy grin. “You’ll love my granny’s cookies at dinner tonight!” He says as Oli drags him outside and down the hall.

Gyrus turns back to the sinks. “I guess we’d better get back to work.”

“No,” Tori says as she glances up and down the corridor. “We have something far more important to do.

\--------------  
“Remind me again why we are all in this closet?” Gyrus asks as he bangs his head against the high shelves. 

“We need a secure location where we can speak freely,” Tori says as she pushes away a couple brooms that are tangling in her hair.

“And we couldn’t do it in the bathroom why?” Gyrus grumbles.

“Not secure,” Sylvia chimes in from her position crouching on a mop bucket. “People come in all the time.”

Gyrus sighs but supposes there’s no arguing with that logic. “So what exactly did you want to tell me?”

Tori and Sylvia exchange a look. Tori takes in a deep breath. “I’m not sure where to begin...but this place? It’s not a ship. At least I don’t think it's a ship. It’s called the Room of Swords.”

“The Room of Swords?” Gyrus frowns. That doesn’t make sense. The ship's name is...what is the ship’s name? He can’t remember. “I don’t understand.”

Tori nods sympathetically. “We don’t understand either. There was simply a voice in the sky that told us all to seek it out, and that was what led us to you.”

A projector, or a speakerphone. Gyrus’s logical brain supplies. It has to be. But that means... “Are you tell me you weren’t from the ship originally?”

“Yes!” Tori exclaims and Sylvia shakes her head in agreement. “We woke up in a strange land, where monsters roamed. It was like something out of a nightmare. Then you came, from out of nowhere, with Kodya.”

“Kodya?” Gyrus asks, the image of stern blue eyes fills his vision. 

“Aye. You, and him, ye fought with incredible powers, and Nephthys too when she came to join. Together we defeated the monster's leader, but just when victory was in our grasp…”

“Kodya killed you,” Sylvia says, looking down at her feet.

Gyrus stumbles back, “No,” he says, raising a hand to his forehead. “No, no. Kodya...he was kind to me. He saved me! He wouldn’t…” 

_“Yeah he would,” _A voice in the back of his mind whispers._ _

_“Oh it wasn’t like that! It didn’t stick!”_ Another snaps.

Sylvia places a comforting hand on his leg. Tori’s brow creases with concern. “It did not actually kill ye, and ye seemed aware of that at the time, even asked him to do so. But nevertheless, when he pulled the sword from you, you changed Gyrus. Ye forgot us, and the worlds outside. Ye seemed to believe everything was a ship that floats through space, and Don held an assembly to make everyone swear that they would allow you to continue to believe this.”

“I-I,” Gyrus stutters, brain racing a mile a minute. That can’t be true. It sounds like something out of a bad novel! Is it a part of Tori’s strange cosplay? That must be it. And yet, Sylvia is nodding along too, and she didn’t act like a cosplayer is supposed to. But it can’t be true...it can’t… 

_“It is,”_ The voice helpfully supplies.

_“We could have told you if you’d just stuck around!” _The first one adds._ “Hey! Why did you hit me?”_

_“Because you’re being mean!”_

Gyrus shakes his head. He needs sanity, something normal… “Proof!” he cries. “Do you have any proof?” 

Tori frowns. “Ye doubt my word?” Sylvia hits her leg. She winces. “Right. Of course you would have doubts. It is a hard truth to follow. How about this. Can ye think of anything...odd? Which ye could not explain away?”

Gyrus’s mind flashes to the blue light and the man who wasn’t there. “Kodya…” he starts, then changes his mind, not wanting to admit to hallucinations quite yet. “...Oli...Oli glowed blue and pulled out the perfect pieces from behind his back.” 

“Aye!” Tori exclaims. “They do both have blue light when they use their strange powers. What say you, we catch them using this blue light, will that be the proof you so desire?” She looks at him, expectant. 

Gyrus sighs and rubs his temples. “It does sound crazy,” he admits. “But things have been...strange...since I woke back up.” He holds up a hand as Sylvia and Tori’s faces lit up. “Not saying I believe you about the powers. But something is definitely up. So I guess we should investigate it, to find the truth.” 

“To find the truth,” Sylvia echoes. Tori smiles. 

\-------------  
Operation Blue Light is a fairly simple plan. Just follow Kodya and Oli around until they use their powers, preferably without being seen. This is easier said than done. For one thing: Anan keeps them working for most of the day, scrubbing the bathrooms and sweeping the corridors, and by the time it’s over, they’re too exhausted to go anywhere. For another: It’s surprisingly hard to catch anyone alone. They move in packs of two or three, and although neither Oli nor Kodya seem to have a problem with Gyrus, the people around them certainly do. They would glare daggers until Gyrus leaves. Tori and Sylvia report equal difficulty getting close, but without as much intensity of dismissal as Gyrus faced. 

When Gyrus does manage to catch Kodya alone, they’re rarely left together for long. Don always seems to magically know when Gyrus and Kodya were talking and would appear. Or Nephthys, or that scary lady. Or Feather. Each one needs Kodya to deal with something or help out, or in the case of the crazy lady Ragan, make rude comments until Kodya gets mad and sends Gyrus away so he could shout back at her. It bothers Gyrus, because underneath all the gruff and grump, it seems as if Kodya actually enjoys his company, or at least doesn’t hate it like the others. He even seems to linger alone sometimes, as if waiting for Gyrus to find him.  
But that’s probably just Gyrus’ imagination. He shakes his head as he pushes the mop along the empty hallway. They need a game plan, and a better one than wandering around and trying to follow people. 

A delicious scent floats past his nose. He inhales it greedily, the scent of fresh baking cookies. Gyrus pauses, glancing to the side at a fairly inconspicuous door. The scent was definitely coming from there. He pushes it open hesitantly. Inside is a large kitchen, with Oli standing by the oven, oven mitts on his hands. There’s a flash of light, making Gyrus tense, eyes are peeled for anything unusual. But it’s only the oven light letting Oli know it’s done. He opens the door, pulling out a fresh tray of cookies. 

“Oh!” Oli jumps, a cookie tumbling off the edge of the tray. Gyrus jumps forward and slides on his belly, catching it before it hits the ground. Unfortunately, he’s not watching where the mop is going, and it keeps flying forward, directly onto the tray. They collide with a loud bang, cookies flying everywhere. 

“What’s going on!” Anan throws the door open, one hand is raised with the other at his elbow, like some kind of strange gesture. Behind him Sylvia and Tori crane their necks to see inside. Anan ignores them in favor of glaring at Gyrus, shoulders tense. Gyrus blinks. 

“It’s alright Anan,” Oli slowly lowers his hands. “Gyrus just tripped.” 

Anan’s eyes take in Gyrus’s body sprawled dramatically on the ground, then glances over at the mop and the cookie tray beside it. “Oh come on!” His shoulders relax as he lets go of his elbow. “Cookies were my thing! From my grandma!” 

“I’m the cook.” Oli points out. “I’m allowed to make more than one desert.” Sylvia darts into the room and crouches next to Gyrus, stealing the cookie from his hands.  
“It’s good!” She signs with her hand as she uses the other to stuff the rest inside her mouth. Anan pouts. 

“I’m really sorry Oli,” Gyrus says, pulling himself to his feet. “I was only trying to help.” 

Oli sighs. “It’s ok,” he kneels down and starts picking up the cookies. “It wasn’t your fault.” Gyrus scrambles to help out as Oli’s attention turns to Sylvia. “I don’t suppose you could tell me how they compare?” He asks hopefully. 

Sylvia pauses, placing her hand on her chin. “They were definitely good,” she says. “But I couldn’t compare them, it’s been too long since I had Anan’s.” 

“Yeah!” Anan crosses his arms. “Nothing beats Grandma’s recipe!” Tori facepalms. 

“I don’t know,” Sylvia repeats. “It’s been too long to tell.” Anan gasps, and Oli straightens slightly. 

“Why don’t we have a competition and find out?” suggests Gyrus. Every head in the kitchen turns to look at him. 

“Excuse me?” says Anan. 

Gyrus scratches the back of his head. “The most important part is to get all the cookies made right? Why don’t we divide the load in half, with teams of two on each side. Then each team will submit a cookie to Sylvia to judge. That way it gets done and we all have fun!” Another upside is that he gets to watch Oli for an extended period of time to see if he uses any powers. He doesn’t say that though. 

He catches Tori and Sylvia’s gazes, and nods. They nod back, seemingly understanding what he’s left out. “I like this plan!” Tori exclaims with false vigor.  
“You're just agreeing because Gyrus told you too!” Anan complains. 

“I don’t know,” Oli bites his lip. “It sounds like fun, and it would be really nice to have some extra hands in the kitchen.” 

“Oh come on!” Anan throws his arms in the air. “You are not agreeing to a plan he came up with!” He points at Gyrus dramatically. 

“It’s only cookies Anan,” Oli points out gently. “And Kodya is coming by to pick up some heart beat pills for Nephthys later.” 

“Kodya is coming?” Gyrus asks. Why does Kodya coming by affect Anan’s opinion on helping bake? He doesn’t add. Oli gestures towards Gyrus as if to say, ‘See?’  
Anan sighs, shoulders slumping as he does so. “Fine. But I get Tori!” He grabs Tori’s arm and pulls her close. Tori freezes, turning to glare at him. Anan drops her arm. 

“Fine by me,” Oli shrugs. “Gyrus?” He turns his head to look at him. 

“All right!” Gyrus pumps his fist enthusiastically in the air. “Team Quarantine for the win!” He shoots Tori a wink and holds back a grin as Anan’s mouth falls open. 

Cooking with Oli is fun, Gyrus decides as he rolls the dough flat with a rolling pin. The man clearly knows what he’s doing, even if it’s only the third time he’s handled this particular recipe. The only problem is, no matter how sharply he keeps an eye on Oli, he never seems to need to do the glowing light trick again. Every ingredient is already stocked and ready for him to try. He could only bring himself to ‘accidentally’ knock the flour over once, and Oli had immediately produced another full bag. 

He’s been too embarrassed to try it again. 

“Sooo,” he says to his companion, already busy mixing up the almond and cinnamon filling. “How long have you been the ship’s cook?” 

“A couple years,” Oli answers, absently adding a bit more orange water to his bowl. “As soon as they realized I had the gift.” He sounds almost bitter. 

“Yeah, that’s how job interviews tend to work,” Gyrus chuckles. “It's not like you apply to be a cook and get hired as an engineer.” Or start out an engineer and get made a janitor. He glances at Oli out of the corner of his eye to see how he responds. 

Oli doesn’t take the bait. Instead he frowns and hits the almond paste harder. “I wish it worked like that.” 

So he is interested in being an engineer! Gyrus could cry with relief. There might be a simple explanation to all this weirdness after all. “Engineering is a tricky job, but it's not impossible to get. Have you considered taking night classes online?” 

“What are night classes?” Oli stops stirring the almond paste to look at him. 

_There’s the weirdness again._ Gyrus holds back a sigh. What kind of adult has never heard of night classes? “You know, you go to learn math and science so you can get a degree in engineering?” 

Oli bites his lip. “You mean when someone tries to teach you all about the makeup and chemicals of every element?” 

“Sounds more like chemistry,” Gyrus shrugs. “But I guess so.”

“Then yeah,” Oli nods. “I had that. Not that it matters.” He turns back to his almond mix, a frown on his face. 

Oh dear. Gyrus hadn’t meant to make him upset. What can he say? He glances over at Sylvia, swinging her feet as she watches the baking going on in the kitchen. Gyrus glances back at Oli beside him, mashing away. “Well, at least being a cook, you must have a lot of friends. I know Sylvia would probably like to ask about your recipes.” 

Oli rubs the back of his neck, looking away shyly. “Actually, we haven’t really talked.” 

Gyrus stares, glancing between him and Sylvia, then turns back to his work flattening the dough. “Oh I see how it is.” He chuckles. _Too shy to make a friend aye?_ Just like he’d been when Gyrus had first met him. Well it isn’t like he can’t help with that. 

“You should make her something just for her. Not as part of a competition or a thank you to everyone. Something she enjoys.” 

“Like what?” Oli asked, leaning forward eagerly. 

What did she like? Gyrus thought. They’ve only really discussed stalking strategies and world-altering secrets. 

A memory dances across his mind of a cave girl crouching in the dirt, devouring his last chocolate bar. She licks the last crumbs from her lips and breaks into a wide smile. 

“She likes chocolate,” Gyrus murmurs. 

“Chocolate?” Oli leans forward eagerly. “What’s that?” 

Gyrus shakes his head, trying desperately to clear it. “It-it’s…” 

“Hey, you ok?” Oli asks, reaching out a hand. Gyrus flinches, then straightens up, pasting on his brightest smile. 

“I’m ok! Just got a little lost in my head. You wanted to know about chocolate right?” Oli’s eyebrows furrow, but Gyrus presses on. “It’s a sweet made from cocoa beans and sugar. That comes from the Americas. It was first used as a sacred drink by the...but you don’t need to hear that, sorry.” He turns back to his pastry dough. 

Oli purses his lips. “Ok.” They worked in silence for a few minutes before Oli says, “I think it's time to cut up the dough." 

“Sure!” Gyrus responds eagerly, and just like that, the moment passes. They put the filling in the cut dough and laugh at the mess they make doing so. Gyrus doesn’t think he has a clean finger by the time they’re done, Oli has filling in his hair. They still look better than Anan and Tori who are both completely white with flour, glaring at each other. 

“Next time, I wish to be on Oli’s team.” Tori scowls at Gyrus, who gives a nervous chuckle in response. 

Anan crosses his arms, flour falling like snow as he does so. “Hey! We got it done didn’t we? What’s cooking without a few mistakes? That’s what Grandma always said.” 

“You’re grandma sounds very wise.” Sylvia gives a thumbs up. Tori grits her teeth, but Anan beams. 

“Sweetie here, she gets me!” He gives Sylvia a one sided hug. 

“Don’t go buttering up the judge,” Gyrus jokes. “She’s got to be impartial.” 

Anan raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn't reply. Which considering his jumpy behavior around Gyrus, is definitely an improvement. He turns back to the oven to wait as Tori tries to engage Oli in conversation. 

How am I so certain that Sylvia’s favorite food is Chocolate? _he wonders. _It feels like a memory, but it can’t be. I’ve never seen her in clothes like that, and I haven’t had any chocolate since I got here. ____

_“That’s because it's not your memory,”_ A voice whispers in his mind. _“It’s mine. From the first time I met Sylvia with Tori in the cave.”_

_“I don’t understand,” _he says in his mind._ _

__

__

_“No, but if you came back, I could explain,”_ the other Gyrus offers. 

“Hey, are you ok?” A hand falls on his shoulder. Gyrus jumps slightly and turns to see Oli’s concerned face. 

“Just fine!” Gyrus grins. “Just thinking...on if I could make this oven cook faster if I altered the lighting inside.” 

Oli glances back at it. “I doubt it. You built it, so it’s probably working to the best of your ability already.” 

“Oh did I?” Gyrus scratches the back of his neck. “I must have forgotten.” 

The oven dings. “It's ready!” Sylvia jumps up from her place on the counter. “Let’s eat!” Oli pulls both trays out as Anan hovers by his side. Tori pulls out a spatula and picks up two smoking hot cookies, one from each tray. 

“They’re hot. So be careful Sylvia,” she scolds. Sylvia rolls her eyes. But her expression becomes serious as she examines the two cookies. 

Carefully Sylvia sniffs each cookie, and pauses, savoring the scent of each one. Then she picks them up, one in each hand, and holds them up to her eyes, looking for flaws or errors in the crust. Anan leans forward as Sylvia raises his and Tori’s closer to her mouth, only for her to lower it again, brow furrowed. She begins to lift Oli and Gyrus’, twisting it in her grasp, feeling the smooth and flakey pastry. Oli begins to sweat nervously. 

Finally, she begins to move Anan’s up toward her lips. Gyrus leans in as she opens her mouth, breathes in and… 

“Nepththys wants the heartbeats she requested!” Kodya announced as he slammed open the door to the kitchen. Everyone jumps. The cookie slips from Sylvia’s hands and flies up into the air, landing with a splat on Anan’s hair. 

____________________________“NO!” Anan screamed, hands raising to his hair, trying to pull the cookie from his curly locks. Tori’s fist clenches with fury._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Kodya blinks. “I’ll come back later,” he says as he slowly closes the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Oli sighs. “You’ve got a whole ‘nother tray of cookies right there.” He gestures to the ones beside them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“It's not the same!” Anan sniffles. “That one was perfect! I specifically had Tori select it so it would be the one Sylvia ate!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________________I think that’s cheating, _Gyrus thinks dryly as he raises an eyebrow. Tori blushes.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Sylvia picks up one of the cookies from Anan and Tori’s tray, and takes a careful bite. She chews in silence for a bit before swallowing, then takes a small bite of Oli and Gyrus’. She places both cookies inside her mouth and reaches out her free hand to pat Anan’s head. “Yours tasted better,” she reassures him. “Even if it wasn’t perfect.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“The secret ingredient is love,” Anan says as he rubbed his eyes. Behind him Tori gives a silent air pump of victory, then glances around to make sure no one saw._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Come on guys!” Gyrus claps his hands, and no, he isn’t being petty and ruining the moment because he can see Oli start to sulk in the background. He does not meddle in love, thank you very much. “We’ve got to clean this up!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________\---------------  
“So that was a waste of time,” Tori grumbles once they were safe in their closet base._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“You say that,” Sylvia grins. “But you and Anan seemed pretty invested in making those cookies.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Tori sputters, fidgeting with the brooms whose brussels are tangled in her hair._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“I don’t know,” Gyrus says. Both women turn to face him eagerly, although Tori immediately winces as the brussels pull her hair back. “I think it was very useful.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Did Oli use his powers?” asks Tori as she tries to free herself from the broom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“No,” Gyrus shakes his head. “But I remembered something. Sylvia,” he turns slightly so he could look her in the eye. “Do you like chocolate bars?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Chocolate?” Sylvia asks. “Brown, sweet, you carried it around with you for when people were hungry?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Yes!” Gyrus nods his head eagerly, but bangs his head against the back ledge. Ouch, he really should do something about that. Maybe move it up a bit?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Why does it matter?” Tori frowns as she finally pulls herself free._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Because I’ve never given Sylvia chocolate,” Gyrus replies as he rubs the back of his head. “But back there, I had a memory of doing exactly that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Your memories are coming back?” Sylvia asks, gripping the edge of her mop bucket seat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Gyrus shakes his head. “I don’t know. It was only one memory, and it's not like I’ve had anymore. But one thing’s for sure,” he looks Tori right in the eyes, “you’re right. Something is up, and I want to find out what.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________\-------------  
Gyrus sighs as he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side of his room. It has gotten covered in sticky almond paste and he doesn’t want to have another reason for people to sneer at him at dinner. He opens his closet, smaller than their new headquarters, but still far too big for one person. He steps inside, looking for a new shirt. Half on a whim, he reaches out farther than the first row, to the ones in the back, enjoying the feeling of clean clothes brushing up and down his shoulders._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He grabs one and pulls it out, pulling it over his head. It pools around him, hanging low over his butt, and off his arms. He frowns. This is huge. There has to be a mistake. Someone must have messed up his laundry, whenever it was that he’s last had his laundry done. He reaches in for another one and holds it up against himself. It’s just as big as the one he is wearing. What? 

He wades deeper in the closet, pulling all the clothes in the back off the hooks, too big, too big, too big! What is going on here? He turns to the pants and finds it’s the same story. Some of them are his size, but most are larger, made for someone at least four inches taller. Even the shoes have two sizes. He starts putting them into piles. The one for larger clothes is bigger, but Gyrus eyes his dirty laundry pile, he wagers it’s about equal if he adds the laundry. 

But whose clothes can it be? He looks back over the odd clothes, sitting haphazardly in a pile. A letter catches his eye, hanging on the edge of the tag. He reaches out and pulls it up to see. It’s the russian letter K. 

But the only one with a K in their name is… 

_“Kodya,”_ A voice whispers in the back of his mind, soft as a prayer. 

_“What is with you and that guy?”_ Another grumbles. 

_“Jealous?”_ There’s a smirk in the first’s voice. 

Gyrus pointedly ignores them.

A room too big for him with a bed too big for him to sleep comfortably. Clothes too big in the back of the closet. The letter K. What does it mean? Gyrus isn’t sure. But one thing is for certain: he’s going to have to investigate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nephthys (when Kodya come back): Did you get the heartbeats.  
> Kodya (in a daze): I made a grown man cry today, over a cookie.  
> Nephthys: Again? Kody! That's the fourth time this week! What did you do?  
> Kodya: I yelled, and the cookie came alive and ate him.  
> Nephthys: What?  
> Kodya (shaking his head): The cookie came alive and ate him Nephthys. Its a tough world out there.
> 
> Bonus: Anan and Tori are Team Grandma for the win!


	5. Haunted Halls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyrus and friends go on a ghost hunt.

Gyrus fully intends to tell Tori and Sylvia about the strange clothing in his room, but unfortunately, fate has other plans. And by fate, Gyrus means Anan, who has decided that they would have a little after-dinner cleaning session, just because.

Well...technically it wasn’t Anan exactly who suggested it. But it is Anan’s fault for bragging about helping with the cookies, which caused Don to ask who was supervising, and Ragan to say if Anan’s janitor crew had enough free time to help out in the kitchen, they had enough time to do laundry for everyone else before bed.

Which leads to them, right now, walking up and down unfamiliar corridors to collect everyone’s smelly laundry. Gyrus tries to smile as another load of laundry is thrown at him from a random room, underwear catching on his head. He shifts the load and pulls it off gingerly. That’s the eleventh time that’s happened, and he’s seriously beginning to think that the crew has decided to use him as laundry target practice. 

He glances to the right to see Tori balancing an equally large pile of laundry, a scowl on her face. Beside her is Sylvia, two equally tall piles of laundry in each of her arms. She flexes her arms, shedding socks as she does so, and smirks at the two of them as if to say, “you wimps gonna keep complaining?” Gyrus gives her a sheepish grin in response.

“Hey now, careful with that!” Anan darts forward, catching the falling socks. “I know you’re strong sweetie,” he straightens up with his own pile of laundry collected from the ground behind them, “but if we lose any of this laundry, Ragan’s gonna have all our heads.

“If they wanted it done properly, they should have waited until it was light, instead of interrupting our sleep once again.” Tori grumbles as she holds her laundry pile as far from her body as she can.

“Yeah well.” Anan shrugs. “We did kinda skip out on work to make cookies, it’s not like they’re being unreasonable.

Tori grumbles under her breath about how, “I’m not unreasonable ye are unreasonable.” Gyrus figures it’s a good time to bring some good old optimism to the gang.

“Cheer up Tori!” he says. “At least we’ve only got one corridor to go and then we’re done!” So saying he steps forward towards the last opening on the right. He gets a glimpse of eleven closed doors gleaming in the dim light before Anan’s voice roars behind him.

“Stop!” Anan throws out a hand, flinging a sock at the back of Gyrus’ head. He blinks at the impact and turns to stare back at Anan, one eyebrow raised.

Both Sylvia and Tori glare at Anan, and he freezes. Gyrus thinks he is doing some very quick thinking. “I mean,” he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “No one lives down there. It’s kinda...forbidden?” 

“Oh, okay,” Gyrus shuffles back towards Anan, keeping his movements slow and casual. “I understand. Authorized personnel only right?”

“Right!” Anan nods. He turns on his heel and begins to march back the way they came. “Follow me! We’ve got a few stops to cover before we take this to the laundry room!”

\-------------------  
The next stop is the medical bay. Anan leans against a doorpost as he calls in, “Laundry!”

Nephthys appears, smiling serenely, with a pile of bandages. “Thank you so much for doing this! It’s such a bother to come back and forth from the laundry room whenever I need new bandages!” Sylvia steps forward to collect it, but Nephthys dumps the pile into Anan’s arms, making his pile taller than he is.

“No problem Nephthys,” Anan mumbles through the dirty laundry now covering his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Gyrus sees Tori smirk. Anan turns to leave, but Nephthys stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Wait just a second, Kody might need some laundry done too. Don’t you Kody?” She called over her shoulder. Anan tenses.

Kodya appears in the doorframe. He glances over the four of them and crosses his arms. Gyrus shifts, feeling the weight of the glance stir the voices in his head again. _Kodya, are you my savior, or my enemy?_ He wonders.

 _“Both,”_ says a voice dryly. There’s the dull sound of fist meeting skin. _“Ouch!”_

 _“He’ll always be ours,”_ another voice said firmly. _“He’s just confused right now.”_

“I’m good,” Kodya says, startling Gyrus back to the present.

“Now now.” Nephthys smiles. “You’ve got like two shirts, you always need one done! Why not take advantage of their trip to save yourself the walk?”

Kodya scowls. “I can handle my own laundry.” His eyes slide over to Gyrus. Gyrus freezes, wondering irrationally if he can hear the voices in his head. “Did you forget your laundry?” he asks.

Tori, Sylvia, and Gyrus all exchange glances. Gyrus feels exhaustion fill his bones at the thought of walking all the way to his room and back. “It’s fine!” he chirps. “I’ve got a lot of clothes, I’ll just make do!”

A lot of very suspicious clothes which are too big for him. But if it saves him a walk tonight.. 

Why could Gyrus hear the voice in the back of his head giggling manically?

Kodya’s brow furrows, “No you don’t…” he stops suddenly, and turns away, ears glowing red. “Right, well, you all should get moving. I’m gonna get to bed,” He says he closes the door to the medbay, shutting himself and Nephthys inside. Her laughter echoed through the cracks.

Anan blinks. “Well, I guess we’re on our way then,” he says as he tries to feel his way carefully down the corridor, a pile of laundry blocking his view. 

Sylvia glances at Tori and makes a strange motion with her hands. Tori nods. Sylvia asks politely, “When we are done with everyone else’s laundry, can we do our own?”

“Sure, sure, Sweetie” Anan replies as the top of his laundry wobbles above him. “You girls can get it done, and I’ll take Gyrus back to his room.” Sylvia frowns. Tori sent her another hand gesture. Sylvia replies with a wink, and then moves closer to Anan.

“Need a hand?” She says, casually switching both loads to one hand and extending the other to try and lift Anan’s. “Woopsie!” she says as she accidentally knocks Anan’s pile dangerously close to falling.

“Oh for the love of everything!” Tori marches over and reaches down to the bottom of Anan’s pile. “Stop showing off!” Gyrus sees her hand slip into his pocket before grabbing the underside of the pile more securely.

“Aww I don’t mind! Really ladies!” Anan blushes as Tori pulls to pile from him and Sylvia. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I am not doing this for thou,” she turns her back very deliberately and looks at Sylvia, “is that better now?”

Sylvia nods, giggling. Anan pouts, and Gyrus holds back a laugh at their antics.

\---------------------  
Gyrus flops on his bed and shuts his eyes, certain sleep will wash over him at any minute. He briefly wonders if he should have gotten his own laundry done, but hey, he has those big clothes. 

“Weren't you going to investigate them,” a voice in his head whispers.

Gyrus sits up with a snap. He forgot! He groans and slaps his forehead, facepalming at his mistake. Ah well, he could tell Tori and Sylvia tomorrow. He lays back down and pulls the covers over his head.

“Gyrus!” A voice whispers.

 _Oh no,_ Gyrus thinks. _Not again._ He shifts, trying to block out the annoying arguing that would start any second now.

“Gyrus!” the voice comes again, louder this time. It doesn’t sound right, too high pitched. Weird.

“Gyrus!” A hand grabs his shoulder. Solid and real. Gyrus screams and throws himself off his bed, the other direction from the voice. “Be quiet!” it snaps.

“It’s only us,” another voice adds.

He pulls himself up, peeking over the edge to see Tori and Sylvia staring at him from across the bed. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, mouth agape.

Tori held up the key card Anan used to unlock his room in the mornings. 

“Helping ye with thou laundry,” she grins.

\-------------------  
“So I’m guessing laundry was a codeword,” Gyrus says as he bangs his head once again on the high ledge of the closet shelf.

“Indeed,” Tori nods as her hair brushes against the bristles of the brooms. 

“Then why did we bring all my laundry with us?!” Gyrus gestures downwards to the laundry that’s rapidly filling up all the remaining space. “Sylvia’s practically drowning!”

Sylvia shifts on her mop bucket, up to her shoulders in Gyrus’s pants and shirts. Tori sighs. “We had to make it look convincing, we didn’t know we weren’t being watched.”

“It’s my room,” Gyrus points out. “There’s no one else in it. To watch.”

“Are you sure?” Tori crosses her arms, then immediately opens them to catch the broom she knocks free with her elbow. “Can you remember it was yours? Because it is just as likely that it was designed with spy holes to observe you.”

“We’re just being cautious.” Sylvia adds, then wrinkles her nose. “Although I could do without the smell.”

Gyrus blushes. He glances away from her, and his eyes fall on the too large shirt, which had gotten mixed up in his laundry. He reaches out a hand to pull it out. “Now that you mention it, there was something weird I discovered about my closet.” He holds up the shirt.

For a moment there was silence. Finally Sylvia asks, “Are we supposed to see something or..?”

Gyrus sighs. “It’s too big. Half the clothing in my closet is too big for me. And it's all in the back, like someone forgot to take it out before giving the room to me. But that’s not all,” he flips the collar to show them the letter K on the inside. “It’s marked. So it clearly belonged to someone. K. someone. Who didn’t have time to get all their clothes out. If you’re right and the room isn’t mine…”

“Then it’s Kodya’s,” Tori finishes for him. “He must have had you stashed in his room to keep you from being on your own.”

Gyrus frowns. “A ‘K’ doesn’t necessarily mean its Kodya’s. I know he’s suspicious,” He adds as Tori opens her mouth. “And you were right about my memories. But that’s no excuse to jump to conclusions. There could be lots of others with a K in their name.”

“Others who sleep in the medbay?” asks Sylvia.

Gyrus and Tori turn to look at her.

“What do you mean?” Gyrus asks.

Sylvia shrugs, shifting the shirts and pants around her. “I got a peek into the medbay while we were dropping off the laundry. He had the sickbed all done up with pillows and stuff.

“You sure it wasn’t for Nephthys?” Gyrus presses.

Sylvia shakes her head. “He was adding a blanket when Nephthys called him over. Nephthys even mentioned he’d have his laundry there, combined with these shirts, I’d say the evidence is pretty clear.”

“Oh,” was all Gyrus can say, he leans back against the firm edge of the top shelf. He remembers Kodya’s comforting hand on his shoulder when they’d first met. Remembers how he’d come to visit him when Oli was too afraid. Has all that kindness really been a lie?

 _“Not you too, I have enough angsting to deal with from this guy,”_ the voice in the back of his head grumbles.

A snuffling could be heard. _“You don’t understand true friendship!”_ The other says.

_“I understand that he has to prioritize other’s safety, and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care!”_

Sylvia touches his leg, jolting him back into the present. “I’m sorry,” she says.

Gyrus shakes his head and gives her a smile. “It’s fine. I don’t really know him after all.” Somehow this only made Sylvia look sadder.

Tori clears her throat. “If this is true, then we can assume that Gyrus’ real room is still out there somewhere. And judging from how upset he got this morning, I’d say Anan has already told us where to look.” 

\-------------------------------  
It’s dark as Tori, Gyrus, and Sylvia steal through the hallways. Emergency lighting bathes the floor in an eerie red glow as shadows form and shift in the corners of Gyrus’ eyes. It’s silent, dead silent, so that even their heartbeats can be heard pounding in their ears. Every muffled footstep echoes a thousand times louder as they creep slowly forward. Gyrus flinches at each sound, terrified that each new noise will be the one to wake the sleeping denizens all around them, separated only by flimsy plastic doors. 

They barely tolerate him in the light, he shudders at the thought of what they might do to him if they catch him wandering around at night, especially the angry lady with the sword, Ragan. He glances up at Tori and Sylvia, who seem far better at sneaking than he is, hair glowing in the red light. He wonders what will happen to them if he’s caught. Should he say he made them take him? Maybe if they thought they were coerced, they would leave them alone. 

Sylvia sneaks up to the place the corridor is supposed to be. In its place is a solid looking door, sealed with clamps on the side to make it airtight. The buttons on its keypad blink yellow like the eyes of a monster. Tori frowns. 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” She whispers.

Gyrus nods, “I’m certain.” He knows this is the right location. He can remember it as clearly as if it had happened moments ago, not hours. 

Sylvia nods, and grabs the handle. It doesn’t budge. She frowns. Then shoves hard against the door with her shoulder as she tries to turn it once again. Gyrus winces at the slight bump of her skin connecting with the metal. It doesn’t work. Slyvia steps back, brow set, knees bent like a runner in a race. She takes one step, but Tori grabs her arm, effectively stopping her from charging into the door.

She pulls out Anan’s key card and holds it up for Sylvia to see. Sylvia’s eyes widen, and she grins. Then Tori steps forward and presses the key to the keypad. The light glows green, and the door flies open with a woosh and a thud. All three of them flinch, glancing back down the hall to the closed doors. But there’s no sound or movement to indicate someones waking up. 

Tori moves first, giving a shrug and creeping forward down the now open corridor. Slyvia follows behind her on silent feet. Gyrus heistates, and Tori looks over her shoulder, waving at him with an impatient hand as if to say, “Come on!”

Gyrus takes a deep breath, and steps over the threshold and into the forbidden corridor. 

It’s not all that different from the corridor that they had just been in, the emergency lighting still bathes everything in an eerie glow, it’s still far too silent, and Gyrus still feels like any sudden movement will wake someone sleeping up. But that doesn’t make sense. There’s no one behind these doors, and from the look of the dust on the handles, there hasn’t been anyone for a very long time. 

Sylvia reaches the first door and pulls on the handle. It opens with a creek that sends shivers down Gyrus’s spine. Sylvia doesn’t open it all the way, only allowing for a small crack big enough for her to fit through, and slips inside. Tori and Gyrus follow suit.

Inside, the air is thick with dust. Gyrus nearly chokes on it. Rubbing the water from his eyes, he takes in the surroundings for the first time. It’s a room, with a bed half made and laundry in a pile on the floor. There’s a bedside table just like his, with a vase and flowers inside. Pink roses are painted on the walls, and hair care products are haphazardly thrown everywhere. Sylvia takes a step forward, but immediately jumps back, having stepped on a hair brush.

“Someone lives here,” Tori hisses. “We need to leave before they get back.”

“No,” Gyrus murmurs, as he notes the dust on the sheets and the wilted flowers on the bedside table. “No one has lived here in a long time.”

“We should search for clues,” Tori says, moving towards some of the items thrown on the ground. But Gyrus shakes his head. It seems wrong, somehow, to go through this stranger’s things, when they had so clearly been left alone for her to return to them. 

Tori looks like she was about to protest, but at that moment they heard the telltale grind of wheels on an axle. Gyrus freezes in panic. Sylvia scrambles for somewhere to hide. Tori positions herself in front of the door, ready to fight anyone who comes in, but Gyrus snaps out of his daze to pull her back against the far wall where the shadows hide them all the better.

The wheels stop directly outside their door. Through the crack of the door, Gyrus can make out a strong back. A tired voice said, “What are you doing here, Kodya?”

Gyrus tenses. A sigh echoes through. “I just wanted to visit Mimi.” Through the crack Gyrus could see the broad shoulders slump.

“And so you come at night?” Captain Don’s voice is pleasant, but holds a hint of exasperation.

The broad shoulders roll into a shrug. “The others don’t like me coming near here. It...reminds them...of what happened.”

“I doubt finding you here at night will make them any less afraid,” Captain Don scolds. “You should come in the day, no one will object.”

Kodya shakes his head. “No, not now, especially not now. Not with…”

“With Gyrus?” Captain Don’s voice is gentle. Gyrus’s head jerked up at his name. Both Sylvia and Tori shoot him a look.

Kodya’s shoulders straighten. “He’s only a kid. He likes baking competitions and making fantastical contraptions. The others...they’ll see it in time. Or not. But it doesn’t matter. We know. He’s not dangerous. Not like this.” 

“I know you need to believe that,” Captain Don’s voice is sickly sweet, and it turns Gyrus’s stomach. “But if he shows any signs…”

“I said I’d take full responsibility,” Kodya snaps. “I know exactly what that means.”

 _But what does it mean?_ Gyrus wonders. _Why are you responsible for me?_

 _“Oh Kodya,”_ the voice in the back of his mind sounds heartbroken. _“Is that what he’s holding over your head?”_

“Of course, mi amigo.” Captain Don’s voice is smooth. “Shall we head back?” 

“Actually,” Kodya rubs the back of his neck. “I’d like a moment alone, with Mimi?”

“As you wish,” Captain Don replies. The sound of wheels return, then begins to fade away.

“Thank you,” Kodya says, backing slowly into the room. Gyrus feels his heartbeat exhilarate as Kodya enters. Tori tenses, ready to fight. Kodya doesn’t look at them, instead he presses his ear to the door, listening. Gyrus strains his ears to hear the faint sound of wheels still grinding against an axel. Tori draws in a sharp breath, and Kodya holds up a hand to silence her, still not looking at them. The sound fades away. Kodya’s fingers tap out three seconds against the air before he turns fully to the three pressed against the wall.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” he crosses his arms.

“We aren’t the ones….”Tori starts, but Kodya raises his hand again.

“Save it,” he says with an irritated tone. “You are trespassing in an area that is off limits for a very good reason, especially,-” he points directly at Gyrus’s chest, “- to you. And you are so lucky it was me who caught you and not Ragan or Feather or godforbid Don. What were you thinking?”

“We just wanted answers,” Sylvia starts. 

“Answers.” Kodya scoffs. “Are answers worth putting Gyrus’s life at risk? No. We are leaving. Now. And I don’t want to catch any of you here again. If I have to patrol it myself.” He turns on his heel and began to walk out. Clearly expecting them to follow.

“No,” Gyrus says. Kodya stops, raising a sharp eyebrow. Gyrus lifts his chin in defiance. “I’m sorry. But if you want me to not come back, I’m going to need some answers. Why is this place dangerous to me? Whose room was this? And what happened to them?”

Kodya turns back to Gyrus, a heavy scowl on his lips. For one irrational second Gyrus thinks he’s going to grab him and drag him bodily out of that room, but instead he sighs. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll answer what I can. But it’s not going to be pretty.” He crosses his arms. “This room used to belong to a girl named Mimi... You’re standing in her tomb.”

“T-tomb?” Gyrus’ eyes shoot around, looking for a body, but there’s none in sight. Beside him Sylvia and Tori wear equally bewildered expressions.

“Her body isn’t here. If that’s what you’re looking for.” Kodya’s arms pull tighter across his chest. “We don’t have one. We... never have one.” he looks down at the ground, as if he thinks it can hide the pain in his eyes. “When the...incident happened, twelve people died. We sealed up their rooms so that we could have a place to remember them by.”

“Am I one of the twelve? Is that why there are only eleven rooms?” Gyrus asks.

Kodya shakes his head. “No, you...I found you, we don’t count you among the dead.”

 _But why wouldn’t you?_ Gyrus wonders. _What are you leaving out?_

“But then where is number twelve’s room?” Asks Sylvia.

Kodya shakes his head. “That’s not my story to tell.” He takes a deep breath. “Look, it would be...bad. If you were found here. Really bad. Especially for those who were close to the people here. They’ll take it...badly.” 

_Can that be true?_ Gyrus thinks. _I don’t remember this at all._ He glances over at Kodya’s tense form. _He does seem pretty upset though. He must have lost someone important to him. And if this happened in the crash, or what everyone is calling the crash, it kind of explains why everyone is so upset I lived when everyone else didn’t._

“I’m sorry,” he offers. 

“Me too,” Sylvia hangs her head.

Tori looks away. “I apologize for intruding upon yer place of mourning.”

Kodya bites his lip. “Just...follow me and we can all go back to sleep and pretend this never happened.” 

They nod, following him silently out of the room and through the hallways. 

When they’re far enough away, Tori speaks up. “One thing that has not been made clear, Huntsman, is if those are all memorials, then where is Gyrus’ room?”

Kodya frowns. “Gyrus is in his room.”

“He’s in your room,” Sylvia presses. “You sleep in the medbay. There’s no way that’s your room.”

Kodya’s brow furrows.

“Yeah!” Gyrus jumped in. “I found your clothes and everything!” 

“Is...is that what this is all about...?” Kodya presses his face to his hands as his ears flare red.

“Aye!” Tori scowls. “Ye have been lying to our friend about his living accommodations. He deserves to know where he really lived!”

Kodya lets out a groan, “He’s in his real room. No one changed it.”

“Then why is all of your stuff inside?” Gyrus demands.

“Because I lived with you!” Kodya exclaims, lifting his head to glare at Gyrus, face completely red. Tori’s eyes widens. Sylvia’s mouth falls open in shock. Realization of what he’d said catches up with him, he steps back, eyes wide. 

“Lived with me?” Gyrus repeats. Kodya raises a hand as if to pacify him. Sylvia glances between the two, a strange grin on her face.

“It’s not a big deal…” he starts. Tori’s eyes narrowed.

“We were roommates?” Gyrus shouts. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Is that why he had seen Kodya doing pushups in his room? It wasn’t a hallucination! It was a memory! One more mystery solved. He isn’t crazy. Gyrus could’ve cried with relief.

Kodya bites his lip and looks away. “We needed a place to quarantine you, that you’d be familiar with. So it's not like I could stay there then.” He rubbed his hands together. “And when you got out... you clearly didn’t remember me... Don said it would be bad to spring something like that on you when you were in such a fragile state…”

“Why? It’s only roommates?” Gyrus points out. 

“Only roommates,” Kodya repeats dully. 

Sylvia raises an eyebrow at Tori as if to say, ‘you seeing this?’ Tori looks decidedly less amused as she crosses her arms and glares at Kodya.

Gyrus shakes his head. “You can’t live in the medbay. That's a safety hazard. Come and live with me again. It’s your space. You shouldn’t be kicked out of it.” He holds out his hand invitingly.

A hundred different emotions flicker through Kodya’s face. He glances at Gyrus’s hand, and something almost akin to longing flashes in his eyes before being buried behind his impassive mask. He shakes his head. “Don would never allow it kid,” He says ruefully. 

“Actually,” Captain Don’s voice emanates from behind them, “I think that’s a great idea.” All four of them jumped. He smiled, but it was sharp like a predator’s. “Make sure he doesn’t...wander off. What were you doing up so late anyway?”

“Laundry!” Tori supplies.

“I forgot to do it earlier,” Gyrus offers, scratching his head shyly.

Captain Don raises an eyebrow. “And that required three of you?”

Kodya facepalms. 

“You caught us!” Gyrus gives a half laugh. Tori shoots him a warning look. “We were ghost hunting.”

Captain Don blinks. “You were what? Sorry amigo, could you repeat that?”

“Ghost hunting!” Gyrus puts on his most sincere expression. “You know, looking for ghosts?”

“It was my fault.” Sylvia sniffs. Captain Don turns disbelieving eyes on her. “I’ve been hearing noises lately, when it gets late. I got worried, so I asked Tori and Gyrus to help.” She bats her big eyes, and Gyrus watches as the suspicion melts off Captain Don’s face.

“I caught them before they got into any real trouble,” Kodya adds with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they all get back to where they are supposed to go.”

“Very well,” Captain Don begins to wheel away.

“And Gyrus?” he stops.

“Yes?” Gyrus asks. Kodya shifts closer to him, in a way that’s almost protective.

“Try not to take any midnight walks. Anything can happen at night.” So saying, he wheels away.

As he watches him leave, Gyrus gets the feeling that looking for answers would be harder than he previously thought.

\--------------------  
The night finds him lying on a blowup mattress on the ground of his office that Kodya had pulled out from under his desk. It’s apparently always been there, but somehow Gyrus missed it. Kodya had wanted to sleep on it, but Gyrus insisted that he get at least one decent night's sleep on a real bed after so many on the medbey’s checkup bed. 

_“Should have shared it,”_ A voice whispers in his mind. _“He wouldn’t mind.”_

 _“I’m pretty sure he would.”_ The other voice grumbles.

 _“He didn’t when it was me.”_ The other voice sounds smug.

Gyrus ignores them. There’s something important today. Something he forgot. What is it?

Gyrus sits up with a jolt. 

“I forgot my laundry!” He shouts, making Kodya sigh.

“Why is that something that never changes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan discovered the laundry the next morning when he went to remove the supplies. He promptly freaked out claiming "It's after me!" and ran to Feather for back up. Sylvia, Tori and Gyrus used the time to remove the laundry quickly back to Gyrus's room, so that when they returned it was gone. Anan now lives in fear of the 'ghost laundry.'


	6. A Slow Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyrus starts to put the pieces together. To bad he's terrible at jigsaw puzzles.

Gyrus awakes with a jolt. The lingering touches of a nightmare causing a cry to escape his lips. He struggles against the sheets. “Where am I? Where’s..?”

“Something wrong kid?” A voice calls from below. Gyrus jumps as he emits another shriek.

“Wha...Who?” He sputters as he rolls off the mattress, hitting his head against the side of the desk. “Owww!” he winces and brings a hand to his head.

“Are you ok?” Pounding footsteps could be heard, and Kodya appeared at the top of the stairs, clad in a loose white shirt and sweatpants. “I heard a crash!”

“Kodya?” Gyrus blinks, brain slowly rebooting with what had happened last night. Oh, that’s right. He lives here now. Probably has for a while before Gyrus’ accident got him pushed out. “I’m alright,” he offers, since Kodyas is still staring at him, a look of masked concern on his face. “Just not used to the desk.”

Kodya sighs. “You could always sleep on the bed. Less chance of getting hurt.”

“Oh I couldn’t do that!” Gyrus shoots him an apologetic smile. “Then you’d have to sleep here, and you’re way taller than me. You’d definitely hit your head.”

“I would be sleeping with my feet under the desk, not my head,” Kodya points out with a roll of his eyes. “So it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Oh,” Gyrus lowers his hand from his head. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Of course not,” Kodya says, shoulders sagging. “Here.” He kneels down beside Gyrus. “Let’s move it so that this doesn’t happen again.” 

Feeling once again like a child, Gyrus helps Kodya flip the mattress around so the pillow is facing the other way. He wonders if sharing a room is always going to be like this.

_“Pretty much,”_ the voice in his head sighs. _“You have no idea how many obvious solutions we missed by over thinking that Kodya fixed.”_

_“Did...did you just say something not antagonistic or creepy?”_ the other voice hesitantly questions.

_“Well yeah, I’m not the bad guy here,”_ the first voice grumbles.

_“Twelve people say otherwise.”_

Twelve…Wait a minute. He knows that number. The image of the empty room flashes through his mind. It can’t be, can it?

“Kodya?” he asks, peeking over at the older man.

“What?” he grunts in reply as he fluffs Gyrus’s pillows.

“The accident, the reason those twelve peopled died,” he pulls his arms tighter around himself, “what caused it?”   
Kodya closes his eyes and sighs. “I told you, it’s difficult to talk about.”

Gyrus leans forward, “But what if…”

Kodya cuts him off with a raise of his hand. “No. What-ifs don’t do anyone any good. You don’t know. I don’t want to explain. So don’t worry about it. Focus on the here and now, and move forward from that ok?” 

“Ok,” Gyrus echoes, seeing that there isn’t going to be much point in arguing.

“Good,” Kodya nods. “Now you want the bathroom first right?” Like that’s a completely normal question to ask.

“Gaahh!” Gyrus throws his hands over his bright red face.

\-----------  
“So how’s the new roommate?” Sylvia sang as Gyrus came into the bathroom, mop in hand. 

“I hope he was not uncouth,” Tori adds, arms crossed with a broom sticking out at an odd angle.

“Roommate?!” Anan shouts. “HOW? Who in their right minds...” He breaks off as Sylvia frowns at him.

Gyrus gives a nervous chuckle as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Apparently I always had one? Kodya…”

“Kodya? Still? Damn.” Anan shakes his head. “He works fast.” Tori scowls.

“It's not like he had anywhere else to stay,” Gyrus points out. “It’s his room too.”

“He was sleeping in the medbay!” Sylvia agrees.

“Yes and I suppose the bed was too big without him,” Anan says with a funny smile on his lips.

“What?” Tori raises her eyebrows.

“NO!” Gyrus waves his hands, face tomato red. “Not like that! Why would you even think that?”

Anan raises an eyebrow. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve changed those sheets, I know there’s only one bed in that room.”

Tori and Sylvia’s heads swing to Gyrus, mouths open. Sylvia’s eyes are shining while Tori’s are narrowed.

“There’s another one upstairs! A mattress under the desk!” Gyrus cries. “Wait…” He frowns. “You’ve never changed the mattress upstairs’ sheets?” Just how dirty were they?

Anan ignores the question in favor of staring at Gyrus. His mind seems to be doing gymnastics. “You mean to tell me,” he says slowly, “that you’re sleeping on a mattress upstairs while Kodya gets that bed, that huge, ginormous bed, all to himself?”

“Yes,” Gyrus nods. Sylvia pouted as Tori’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“HA!” Anan laughs, causing the others to jump. “Hahaha!” Anan stuffs his fist in his mouth to try to stop himself, but it does no good. “Oh Anansi,” he gasped between laughs. “Oh thank you! I’m not the most pathetic! Haha!” 

“I don’t understand,” Gyrus says, helpless, as the man nearly bends over with laughter.

“Pray tell, explain what you find so humorous.” Tori crosses her arms.

“It’s nothing,” Anan wipes the tears from his eyes. “You wouldn’t get it, you weren’t here before…Oh Anansi, this is hysterical.”

“Should we be worried for Gyrus?” Sylvia bites her lip.

_Worried for what?_ Gyrus thinks.

_“Yeah! What? It’s Kodya! He’s trustworthy!”_ The depth of his mind echoes back.

_“Was...was I that oblivious? Oh that poor man,”_ another one answers back.

“What?” Anan’s eyes widens. “No no! Not like that! This is Kodya we’re talking about. He’s a good guy.”

“I have yet to see proof of that statement.” Tori places her hands on her hips.

“Guys could we maybe drop this?” Gyrus asks, brain finally starting to catch on to what’s being discussed. “We’re just roommates. End of story."

“Right, like Ragan and Cib. Roommates.” Anan winks.

_Who’s Cib?_ Gyrus wonders. _And how can she handle someone as scary as Ragan?_

_“I’ve wondered that for ages,”_ The voice in his head mutters.

“If you are quite done,” Tori grumbles, “let us stop discussing Gyrus’s roommate and complete the work before us.”

“Actually…” Anan’s expression turned crafty. “Kodya did request some help with the mounts. Very unlike him really. But hey, never let it be said that I’m not a good bro.”

“Mounts?” Sylvia begins to salivate. Anan chuckles.

“No sweetie, they aren’t for eating, just riding,” Anan ruffles Sylvia's hair. Tori swats his hand away.

“If you need a volunteer, I will aid with the treatment of these mounts,” she says.

“Oh no.” Anan shakes his head. “I’m not losing my best mopper on something like this.”

“Excuse me?” Tori grits her teeth, steam coming from her ears. 

_I’m imagining that right?_ Gyrus thinks as he stares at the steam.

“That’s a good thing!” Anan holds up his hands. “It means you’re not the one I’m going to send to pick up animal poo!” He jerks his thumb over at Gyrus. “I’m sending him!”

“Me?” Gyrus points at himself. _Why do we have animals on a spaceship?_ He thinks.

“Absolutely not!” Tori snaps.

Anan frowns. “I don’t think that’s your call,” he says evenly. Sylvia shifts closer to Tori, squaring her shoulders.

“It’s fine,” Gyrus says. Everyone’s attention snapped to him. “Really Tori, it’s not a big deal. Besides,” he scratches his cheek. “Shouldn’t I get to know my roommate?”

“You heard him,” Anan smiles. “Problem solved!” Sylvia nods and turns back to the rags. Tori crosses her arms. 

“Are ye sure?” she asks.

“You are more overprotective than my grandma about her cookie recipe,” Anan sighs. “Tori if it worries you so much, you can escort Gyrus to the medbay where Kodya probably is. Then come straight back here ok?”

Tori frowns, but bows her head. “That would be acceptable.” 

“Good,” Anan says. Then he grins. “He Sweetie! It looks like it's just gonna be you and me for a while!” He slips an arm over Sylvia’s shoulders. She giggles. Tori scowled.

Gyrus grabs her by the arm. “We’re going now. Bye!” He waves as he pulled her outside before she starts a fight.

“What’s with you today?” Gyrus asks once they’re far enough away. “You didn’t object when Captain Don told Kodya and I to share last night.”

Tori draws in a deep breath. “That was before I knew what his intentions were.”

Gyrus raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think Anan’s exactly the most accurate source. I mean...you saw how he acted towards Oli about giving Sylvia cookies. He’s just the type to see romance everywhere when it's not.”

Tori straightens. “Anan may be completely wrong. I admit. But before,” she glances around. “Ye were close to him, trusted him, and yet he still killed thou and allowed thou to forget everything. I just do not wish to see you get hurt again.” 

Gyrus looks down. “I know, but we do need answers,” he tugs at the edge of his shirt, “and like it or not, helping him out today with these mounts is the perfect opportunity to learn more about him. What he does, how much authority he has, what his intentions are. Stuff like that.”

_“Hunter, about average, and to keep us alive are the answers to those questions, not that you ever listen to me,”_ the voice in his head mutters.

_“Shut up! You’ve been dead for two years! How do you know it hasn’t changed?”_ The other snaps. 

“Just be careful,” Tori warns. “Don’t forget what he’s capable of.”

_“Tori I know you mean well, but you’ve got it backwards. This guy is the scary one.”_ points out the voice in his head.

_“No! It’s Don! I’m telling you!”_

The voices in his head continues to argue, but Gyrus tunes them out. A much darker thought bubbles inside him. Twelve dead, but he wasn’t counted among them. _“Got it backwards,”_ both the voices had said. Anan and Oli’s fear, whenever they were left alone with him. All the pieces are starting to fall into place, and Gyrus doesn’t like the image they’re painting.

Tori places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Gyrus? You in there?”

Gyrus jumps. “Right!” he says. “Get to know Kodya, be careful. I’ve got it.” No point in voicing his fears, not out in the open, and not to one of the few people who seems convinced he isn’t to blame.

They walk the rest of the trip to the medbay in silence. Gyrus is lost in his thoughts, and debating whether using things said by the voices in his head are logical evidence or not. They insisted it is, but seeing as they can hardly agree on anything, Gyrus isn’t sure. Perhaps it’s all just paranoia, or left over from whatever sickness he’d gained from in the accident. 

_“Except there was no sickness, and you know that now,”_ his brain whispers.

_“Don’t say it all dramatic like that! You’re the reason he doesn’t take us seriously!”_

As they reach the medbay, Tori throws open the door with a grand display. “Nephthys!” she calls. “We have arrived to seek thy aid!”

"Oh my!” Nephthys hurries over, wiping her hands on a cloth as she does so. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, no!” Gyrus exclaims. _Tori why are you like this?_ “We’re just looking for Kodya, Anan said he needed me to help with the mounts?”

Nephthys blinks. “He sent you to help with the mounts?”

“If you have an objection I will happily take his place,” Tori offers.

“No, no!” Nephthys shakes her head. “I have a good feeling about this, and Kodya would love to have Gyrus help.” she giggles. “Right Kody?” she calls behind her.

Tori’s eyes narrow as Kodya emerges from the back. “What is it Neph... oh,” he says as he sees Tori and Gyrus. His shoulders sag as he let out a deep sigh. “How did you get hurt this time Gyrus?”

“I’m actually here to help you with the mounts.” Gyrus smiles. 

“Really?” Kodya blinks. “Don approved that?”

“Do ye doubt his skills?” Tori snaps.

“Mounts don’t take skill,” Kodya says with a roll of his eyes. “Just patience.”

“Spoken like a true natural,” Nephthys sighed. “Kody’s not meaning to be rude,” she explained as she fixed Tori and Gyrus with a disarming smile. “It’s just that we weren’t expecting Don to approve it is all, since he put in that request weeks ago.”

“I see,” Tori replies, seeming slightly more at ease in the light of Nephthys’s winning smile. She stands awkwardly in the doorway for another few beats of silence.

Finally Nephthys shoots her another smile. “Do you need anything else Tori?”

“No,” Tori’s cheeks redden. “No, I shall take my leave.” She shoots Gyrus one more look, a be-careful look, and is gone.

“So where are the mounts?” Gyrus asks as he turns to Kodya. “And why do we have them?”

“Slow down kid,” Kodya holds up a hand. “I’ve still got to double check with Don that this is what you are supposed to be doing.”  
“Anan okayed it. Why would Captain Don say differently?” Gyrus asks. 

“Oh go on Kody! It’ll work out!” Nephthys pushes him lightly on the shoulder, “I’ve got a good feeling about this!”

Kodya crosses his arms. “It’s not about feelings, it’s about not getting Gyrus into trouble. He’s on thin enough ice as it is.” He raises an eyebrow at Gyrus, who looks away. Looks like his and the girl’s midnight escapade hasn’t been forgotten. “Just give me a minute to ask, it’s not too far.”

“Okay,” Gyrus says as he traces the pattern of the tiles on the floor. 

“Hey,” Kodya’s voice is gentle. Gyrus looks up. “You’ll like the mounts,” Kodya gives him a faint smile. “They’re the coolest part of this godforsaken place.”

Gyrus returns a smile, which seems to satisfy Kodya. He turns and walks out. Gyrus stares after him. _I don’t know what to make of him._ He thinks to himself. _Every time I think I’ve got a read, it changes._

_“Get used to it,”_ a voice in the back of his mind grumbles.

_“Just keep spending time with him. You’ll figure it out,”_ the other gives a dreamy sigh. 

_“And there he goes again.”_

The door swings open with a bang. Gyrus jerks up, but instead of Kodya, Ragan strolls into the room. “Nephthys!” she calls out, holding out her arm. “I injured myself testing out a new move.” 

“Just a second!” Nephthys calls from the back, when had she gone there? Gyrus hadn’t even noticed her move. Ragan groans theatrically and glances around the room. Her eyes landed on Gyrus and her face twisted into a sneer.

“What are you doing here, Freak?” She growls. Gyrus feels his hairs stand on end as her full attention turns on him.

“Kodya told me to wait,” he offers, hoping it will satisfy her. She snorts, hand traveling to her sword and yup, she still has that thing. Why is she allowed to walk around with it? Even if there are monsters out there, it's not like there are any inside.

“Oh, Kodya,” she spits his name like it's the worst insult she can think of. “Kodya’s still wrapped around your little finger. Don’s a fool to trust him. I on the other hand,” in one swift motion she pulls out her sword and holds its tip directly at Gyrus, “I know exactly what you’re capable of, and I may not know what your little game is, but set one toe out of line,” she lifts the tip, causing Gyrus to have to lift his chin or face injury, “and I will kill you. Clear?”

“Y-yes,” Gyrus stutters. _Oh please Nephthys come soon._ He prays.

“Ragan!” Nephthys storms in like an angry goddess. “What are you doing?!”

“What am I doing? What are you doing, letting him sit unsupervised?” Ragan says as she pulls back the sword from Gyrus’s neck. Gyrus reaches up instinctively to his throat, checking it for damage. 

“I was right there!” Nephthys points behind her. “And he was right here, and clearly he hasn’t moved, so I think I’m doing just fine!” She places her hands on her hips glaring at Ragan. Ragan glares back, but eventually she snorts and looks away.

“Why are you here anyway?” Nephthys asks.

“I injured my hand,” Ragan holds it up. Nephthys takes it and bent her head down to look at it, but stops, one eye meeting Gyrus’ across the room. She straightens up. “It's only a minor injury. I’ve got some bandages to wrap it in and brace it.”

“What?” Ragan says. “It doesn’t need a brace! It just needs…” Nephthys gives her a light shove and glances back at Gyrus. _What?_ He wondered. 

Ragan follows her gaze and wrinkles her nose. “Oh you have got to be kidding me! You too?”

“I take care of my patients like Don instructed me too.” Nephthys says between tight lips. “I’ll wrap your arm, and you can come and get it changed in the evening.”

“But I haven’t got time to come back here and get it changed! I have work to do in the evenings!” Ragan kicked the air in frustration.  
Nephthys grit her teeth and Gyrus felt sorry for her, having to deal with such an unpleasant patient. But really, there’s a simple solution to all of this. “Why don’t you just take the bandages with you and have your roommate Cib change them before you go to sleep?”

“I didn’t ask…” Ragan stops, a dark cloud falling over her face. “What did you just say?”

“Have your roommates changed them?” Gyrus answers cautiously.

Ragan’s sword was in her hand before Gyrus had time to blink. He flinches, and in doing so he saves his own life as the blade sears against his cheek instead of impaling his eye. It sinks hard into the wall and sticks, but Ragan doesn’t seem bothered, instead bringing her knee up to kick Gyrus in the stomach. Air leaves his lungs as he flies sideways through the air, landing with a thud against the opposite wall.

“Ragan!” Nephthys screams, and Gyrus is vaguely aware of her stepping between them. “What are you doing?”

“Yes, what are you doing Ragan?” Don’s voice is not loud, but it fills the whole room. Gyrus looks up to see him wheel inside, Kodya at his side.

Ragan turns on him. “He knew about Cib! He mentioned her! He’s playing us all for fools!”

“What exactly did he say?” Don leaned forward. In his chair. Behind him Kodya crosses his arms.

“He said I had a roommate,” Ragan replies. “He called her by name! There’s no way he could know about that without knowing everything else.”

“Perhaps,” Don says as he turns to Gyrus. “Gyrus mi amigo. “How did you know about Ragan’s roommate?”

“A-anan,” Gyrus choked out. “He was talking about me getting a roommate, and mentioned that Ragan had one named Cib.”

“And do you have anyway to prove this?” Don asks.

_So my word’s not enough?_ Gyrus thinks. “Tori and Syl, they were there. You can ask them and Anan.”

“Very well,” Don says, turning to wheel himself out.

“You aren’t saying you believe him over me?” Ragan cries. 

“No,” Don smiles. “I am going to ask Anan what he said, and make an informed decision based on all three stories.” Ragan groans. He turns his chair. “Come with me Ragan,” he says. 

“Fine,” she says, casting one last look at Gyrus. “Stay away from me, Monster.” She spits at him, and follows Don out. 

Kodya casts Gyrus a quick, searching look. “You too Kodya,” Don says. Kodya closes his eyes, and relaxes his face muscles. When he opens them, a mask of indifference covers his features. He follows Don out the door and Gyrus knows he isn’t going to get to meet the mounts today.

\-----------------  
Noon finds him in the closet, hiding from the rest of the world. Anan had fessed up to mentioning Cib, but Kodya had still given Gyrus the rest of the day off, to recover from almost being killed. For some reason, returning to his room doesn’t sit well with Gyrus. It feels too exposed there, even if the only other person who would come in is Kodya.

He doesn’t look up as the door swings open. “There ye are Gyrus!” Tori exclaims as she and Sylvia hurried inside the closet.   
“What happened to you?” Sylvia asks.

Gyrus gives a small, but sad chuckle. “Oh you know, the run in with Ragan left a few marks.”

“That woman is despicable!” Tori exclaims as Slyvia reaches up to check Gyrus’s cheek. “Attacking thou out of the blue like that...the nerve!” She crosses her arms and glowers, clearly upset that the small room in the closet prevents her from fussing over Gyrus too.  
Gyrus looks down, struggling to put into words the dark truth that he’s been wrestling with all day. “I-I don’t think it was out of the blue.”

“What?” Sylvia asks, face creasing with concern.

Gyrus pulls gently out of her grip, and promptly bangs his head against the back shelf. “Her roommate I mentioned,” he explains as he blinks the spots from his eyes. “Cib. I think she was one of the twelve. Mentioning her must have set Ragan off.”

“It still doesn’t explain why she attacked you!” Tori scowls.

“Doesn’t it though?” Gyrus says. “Twelve people injured in an accident I can’t remember, everyone acting so frightened when I’m in the room. No one is willing to tell me why. I don’t know, but I’m starting to think…”

“Hush!” Tori suddenly holds up a hand. “I think someone is coming,” she mouths as she presses her ear to the door.

For a long second, no one moves. “Are they gone?” Syl shifts closer to Tori. 

“I’m not sure,” Tori hisses back. 

“Guy’s I don’t think,” Gyrus says, stepping forward.

The door wretches open, sending Tori and Sylvia stumbling forward. Gyrus reaches to help them, but trips over Sly’s mop bucket. The momentum sends him into Sylvia’s back, and All three of them crash onto the ground in a pile of limbs.

“What have you three done now?” Kodya sighs from above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kodya, "Why is there noise coming out of the broom closet? Is it the 'ghost laundry' that Anan keeps going on about?" Opens door to see Gyrus, Tori and Sylvia fall out. "Oh, I see. Its grown legs."


	7. No Mercy Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyrus learns to think on his feet, and with his fists.

“Kodya!” Gyrus cries as he tries to pull himself off of Tori and Sylvia as Kodya stands above them, arms crossed. “I can explain!”

“Oh really?” Kodya raises an eyebrow. “So explain.”

“We were-” Gyrus starts.

“Cleaning!” Sylvia offers as she pops her head up, banging Gyrus in the face.

“Kissing!” Tori adds at the same time, struggling to right herself under the weight of all three.

“-hiding from Ragan,” Gyrus finishes, then bends his head to look at Tori. “Tori what the hell?”

“It's a lot more believable than cleaning a cleaning closet!” Tori protests, face red. 

“There are three of us!” Gyrus points out. “How would that even work?” 

“Ehem,” Kodya coughs. “Still here.” All three freeze under his supremely unimpressed gaze. “Since you each came up with a different answer, I’m going to assume none of them were correct. So-” he said as he grabbed Gyrus by the back of his shirt and pulled him up to his feet. “-want to tell me what’s really going on, or are you going to lie again?”

Gyrus gulps. Kodya raises an eyebrow.

_“Oh no. I know that face. That’s the ‘I’m waiting for you to dig your own grave’ face,”_ whispers a voice in the back of his mind. 

_“No way?! He hasn’t changed it?”_ another voice whispers back.

_Neither of you are helping!_ Gyrus whispered into his brain.

_“Hey look! He actually acknowledged us!”_ shrieks the first voice. 

_“Don’t just stand there! Say something wise and important so he continues to do so!”_

“I’m going to take your continued silence as your attempt to come up with a good lie,” Kodya sighs.

“Gyrus!” Sylvia reprimands as she pulls herself up off Tori. “It’s my fault,” she folds her hands and blinks big eyes up at Kodya. 

“Anan’s been so nice lately, but Oli makes real nice cookies, and I just needed them on my side to discuss what to do! You know how hard it is out there for a girl.” Kodya raises his other eyebrow. 

“Do you want to try your hand at a lie too Tori?” He turns to face her. “Or are you going to tell me the truth?”

Tori sniffs, drawing herself up onto her feet. “I do not owe the truth to you.” 

“Really?” Kodya scowls. “Like why you three decided to take a midnight walk through an off limits area? Your actions have serious consequences for Gyrus, a fact I know that both of you are aware of!” He points at Tori’s chest. She bites her lip. Beside her Sylvia looks down at her feet. “He nearly got killed today because he knew one name! And you expect me to believe that whatever you’re doing isn’t going to end up getting him hurt or worse?”

Tori opens her mouth again, and Gyrus knows with crystal certainty if she said anything they’re all going to be in serious trouble. “Join us!” he shouts.

Three pairs of eyes turn to stare at him. “Join us,” Gyrus continues, “you know we’re investigating, and we aren’t going to stop. But if you come along, then you can keep us from doing anything that could end badly.” And not report us to Don. He added silently.

“Are you out of your mind Gyrus?” Tori shrieks. 

“Group huddle!” Sylvia says, grabbing Tori and Gyrus and pulling them back into the closet.

“What are you thinking?” she hisses as soon as the door is closed.

“I’m thinking that if we don’t do something, we’re all in serious trouble!” Gyrus hisses back. “He’s right about one thing, these people are up and ready to kill me if I step out of line. We can’t let them figure out about the Closet gang.”

“But that was our idea!” Tori says. “Surely they will not punish you for our actions?”

“Telling me about Cib was Anan’s choice, and I still got punished,” Gyrus points out. “But Kodya hid us from Don remember? And twice now he’s mentioned he’s more worried about the consequences of getting caught than the actual acts. If we get him involved, he’ll be even less willing to turn us in, because he’s involved too!” 

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” Tori murmurs as she strokes her chin.

“We’ll have to be careful,” Sylvia warns. “And meet sometimes without him.”

“Of course,” Gyrus nods. “We won’t tell him how much we’ve put together until we’re sure we can trust him.”

_“Isn’t that ironic?”_ murmurs a voice in his head.

_“Oh this is way past ironic, this is like inception levels of irony,”_ the other replies.

“Are you three done being cryptic in there? Because I did come looking for you for a reason,” Kodya calls through the door.

Gyrus looks Tori and Sylvia in the eye. They nod. He grins. “Welcome to the closet gang!” he says as he throws the door wide open. Beside him Sylvia does jazz hands. “We meet after work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Your place in the closet will be assigned as we really don’t have the room for you to just stand wherever.”

“Wonderful,” Kodya pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now that’s all cleared out of the way, I am here to fetch you for a reason.”

“Why’s that?” Gyrus asks, voice raising as he thought of the possibilities. He hopes it wasn’t to see Ragan or Captain Don.

“Well, Don’s been resistant, but in light of recent events he’s decided to let me move ahead with your training.” Kodya smirks.  
“Apparently someone has too much energy even after cleaning.”

“Training for what?” Gyrus asks, hope blossoming in his chest. He couldn’t mean engineering could he?

“To survive of course,” Kodya places his hands on his hips. “We can’t have you nearly dying from a single hit.”

Tori draws herself up. “Gyrus is not the only one you’ll train. I think you’ll find me a far more difficult opponent.”

“Bring it on!” Sylvia squared up her arms.

“I was actually meaning only Gyrus,” Kodya frowns.

“First rule of the Closet gang,” Gyrus says. “It’s all of us, or none at all!”

“Fine,” Kodya rolls his eyes. “Just don’t get in the way.”

\--------------------  
Gyrus wasn’t certain what he expected when Kodya said train. But it sure as hell wasn’t this. The room in front of him is circular, filled with exits in every direction that lead up several stairs. Screens lined one side of the room, while the other side is bare and riddled with holes. In the center is a huge crystal seemingly hovering in mid air in a way that reminds Gyrus of the antigravity rooms. It could be an antigravity room, but if so, why is this where Kodya is taking him to train? Damaging that equipment will ensure they would never get the ship up and running again. Even if this crew is lying to him, they should still know that basic safety. Unless it isn’t really an antigravity room... but if the giant crystal hovering in the air wasn’t an antigravity device, what could it possibly be?

And then there are the people, gathered around the exits with grim faces as they watch Kodya lead Gyrus and the girls to the center. Gyrus sees Ragan scowling with her sword out and over her shoulders beside a man with blue spiky hair. In another doorway, Anan stands with crossed arms besides Feather, while Oli cowers in the back. Even Nephthys is here, wringing her hands beside a bald man with a sword on his hip. In the center of them all was Captain Don, sitting on his wheelchair like a king. 

Gyrus gulps, feeling rather like he’s being put on trial. No, not on trial. Like a gladiator pit. An image flashed through his mind of a roaring crowd of robots as a giant mechanical monster snarled across from him while announcers cheered. He glances to the side, half expecting to see a secret door appear and usher in a mechanical T-Rex. But the walls stay solid.

“Kodya,” Captain Don begins. “I believe it is time for your lesson to begin.”

“Of course,” Kodya nods to him and then turns to the three behind him. “It’s time to see what you’re made of.”

“Wait!” Tori interrupts. “If ye wish to challenge me to a fight, at least have the decency to return my sword, so that I may fight ye with honor.”

The words elicit angry mutters from the crowd. “Who does she think she is?” One grumbles.

“As if we’d ever let a boss sword in the hands of a friend of the traitor!” another adds.

_Oh no,_ Gyrus thinks, _she’s going to get us all into trouble._

“Tori!” He hisses. “Now is not the time to cosplay!” Beside her Sylvia moves to a crouch as the murmurs grow louder.

Tori crosses her arms. “I am not a player, Cos or otherwise!”

“Tori seriously, now is not the time!” Gyrus starts, but then stops as the man beside Ragan with the blue hair throws back his head and begins to laugh. 

“Care to enlighten us on the joke Yumeji?” Captain Don tilts his head slightly toward the laughing man. 

“I’m sorry sir,” the man says as he wipes tears from his eyes, “It’s just, he’s calling her a cosplayer, and she’s so offended and I just…” he doubles over laughing again and Ragan reaches out an arm to catch him before he hit the ground.

“I fail to see the joke,” Ragan snaps as she straightens him out so he can stand on his own.

“I’ll dream-share it with you all later,” Yumeji giggles as he waves a loose hand in the air. “It’s harmless, but really, really corny.”  
“I do not know what corn is, but I object to it on principle!” Tori snaps. 

“If you’d rather have a conversation with Yumeji, you can step outside and not practice with us,” Kodya growls. Tori’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click.

“Now where was I? Right!” he turns, crossing his arms and shifting so his entire body cuts them off from Don’s line of sight. “Today we are going to see what you’ve got. Without Weapons.” He cast Tori a scathing glance. She scowls back.

“So what do we do?” Sylvia asked.

Kodya smirked, and Gyrus trembles.

_“Oh no, here it comes!”_ The voice in his head “ _I can’t watch!”_

_“Oh come on, it’s Kodya! How bad could it be?”_ the other replies.

“Drop and give me 100,” Kodya says. Gyrus feels his heart drop to his stomach. _100?_ He can barely do 50!

_“I told you,”_ says the voice in his head.

What followed was the most intense workout of Gyrus’ life. Kodya was relentless, pushing him harder than any other trainer he’d ever had, through sit ups, squats, jumping jacks, planks, and running. So much running. Gyrus runs around the room so many times that he honestly starts to get dizzy. 

Tori runs up ahead, head down as she stubbornly pushes forward. Behind her is Sylvia, who has surprising strength when it comes to pushups and sit ups, however, it does not translate into running speed. They’re both doing better than Gyrus, but even they’re starting to wear down under Kodya’s next level training. Gyrus half wants to run up and greet them, maybe a bit of companionship would make this easier, but he can’t muster up the effort.

His feet trip on something, and he’s suddenly flying through the air. He barely has the strength to catch himself as his body slams into the ground.

“Ooops,” a voice above him chuckles. Gyrus ignores it in favor of savoring the blessed feeling of not moving.

“What is going on here?” Kodya’s voice crashes over him like a wave in a storm. 

“He collapsed like a wimp,” the voice snickers, “but I can help motivate him if you need!” There is a whoosh of something besides his ear, but nothing makes contact. 

“My student. My rules.” Kodya’s voice is laced with anger and the barest hint of strain. “Gyrus, get up.”

Gyrus groans. “Do I have too?” Maybe he can just stay here instead, forever?

“Get up,” Kodya snaps, voice sharp as a whip.

Gyrus places his hands under his body and pushes up. Every muscle in his entire body screams at him, and he can’t help but let out a little whimper. 

“Pathetic,” a voice spits, and a foot jerks away in the periphery of Gyrus’ vision. It’s only then that Kodya removes his own foot, which had been blocking the swing. Huh. Something had happened here. But Gyrus is too tired to care. He gets back up and keeps running.

\---------------------  
“All right, that’s enough for the day,” Kodya claps his hands.

_Finally!_ Gyrus thought, collapsing immediately onto the ground. Two dull thuds followed by muffled groaning tells him Syl and Tori have joined him on the floor. 

“I thought Astronaut training was intense,” He groans in response. “I was trained to be an engineer, not a marine!”

“I have not had a workout like that since I was a squire,” Tori agrees.

“So tired. Can’t think,” Sylvia moans.

“You lot are pathetic,” Kodya sighs, sounding exasperated. “There weren’t even monsters involved.”

Three groans are all he received in response. 

“I believe the show is over now,” Don’s voice echoed through the room. “We’ve all got dinner to eat.” At his words people begin to shuffle out, disappearing down the corridors. Or at least that’s what Gyrus thinks they’re doing. He’s too exhausted to raise his head and see. Finally, the tell tale sound of a wheel grating on its axel fades away, and they’re alone in the empty room. 

“Hey Kodya?” Gyrus musters up the strength to lift his head towards the tall man. “How much longer are we going to have to do this?”

“Every evening until you start showing signs of actual growth,” Kodya replies as he crosses his arms. 

Gyrus let his head fall back onto the ground as he echoed Tori and Sylvia’s groans of protest.

“That’s enough,” Kodya says as he holds out his hand. “On your feet.”

“Can’t I just sleep here on the ground forever?” Gyrus whines, but lets Kodya pull him to his feet. Kodya turns to offer Tori a hand, but she refuses, pulling herself up and offering a hand to Sylvia. Kodya rolls his eyes, but lets her. 

“Come on,” Kodya turns, “You guys don’t want to be late for dinner.”

“Dinner!” Sylvia’s whole face lights up. 

“Yup,” Kodya nods, I hear Oli’s making pasta. Really good for carbs.” As he talks, he turns and begins to walk out.

Sylvia hurries to catch up with him, and Tori and Gyrus tiredly follow suit.

\-----------------------  
Gyrus couldn’t tell what exactly had happened at dinner. Just that he had been hungrier than he’d been in his whole life, and that he’d eaten so much Kodya had to tell him to slow down. But by the time it was over, he was so tired he could barely stand.

Kodya has followed him back to their room, catching him a few times when he’s nearly fallen over from the sheer exhaustion, and encouraging him to keep moving forward with little nudges to his back.

He wants to collapse directly into his bed, but Kodya won’t let him. 

“You need to take a shower,” he tells him. “Or you’ll stink up the whole room.”

Gyrus doesn’t think that avoiding a shower will suddenly stink up the whole room, but he’s too tired to object. He had to admit, the hot water did wonders for his muscles. He emerges feeling refreshed, to see Kodya standing by the edge of the bed.

“Oh no you don’t,” he says as Gyrus tries to walk by him to the stairs. “You’re sleeping on the big bed tonight.”

“But-” Gyrus tries to protest, but Kodya shakes his head. 

“You need to sleep on a proper bed, or you’ll be sore tomorrow, and that will get in the way of your training.” He points out.

“But what about you?” Gyrus asks, blinking at the man in front of him.

_“Yes! I’ve missed my favorite cuddle buddy!”_ A voice in his head crows.

_“Too much information!”_ The other shrieks.

Gyrus feels his own cheeks heating up at the implications.

“I will sleep upstairs,” Kodya coughs into his fist, ears blazing red. “With my feet under the desk like a normal person,” he adds with the rise of an eyebrow.

“Thanks,” Gyrus says as he collapses onto the soft, soft bed. Was it always this soft?

“No problem,” Kodya looks away.

Gyrus pulls the covers over his head and relishes the soft and the warm, oh this is amazing. 

“Night Kodya,” he murmurs into his pillow.

“Goodnight Kid,” is the soft reply.

\-------------------  
Gyrus’s dreams are anything but peaceful. Rather, they seem to involve a rigorous amount of training, just like he had just escaped from. The only problem is that now there are tiny monsters everywhere trying to kill him. He’s tried to protest to dream Kodya, but he’s only thrown him into a pit and left him to fend for himself. 

As the monsters have clawed and bit at every inch of his skin, he’s felt the desperate need for his sword and…

“Yaaah!” Gyrus screams, jolting upright. He struggles against something containing him, but can’t seem to get himself free.

“What’s wrong?” Kodya anxiously sticks his head over the banister, hair in a rats nest.

“I-” Gyrus looks down, to see he was fighting his own sheets. “I think I had a nightmare.” 

“Oh,” Kodya sighs. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You threw me to the monsters,” Gyrus states bluntly.

“I’m sure it was for your own good,” Kodya replies with a yawn.

Gyrus leans back down into the too large bed. “I suppose we should go back to sleep.” He closes his eyes.

The alarm goes off directly in his ear. Gyrus’ eyes snap back open. “Oh it’s one of those days,” he grumbles to himself.  
“Tell me about it,” mutters Kodya.

\---------------------------  
The next few days were some of the hardest of Gyrus’ life. Every day he would spend the mornings and half the afternoon working with Anan. Then they would get a brief, but supervised break as they waited for Kodya to collect them and take them to training for the rest of the afternoon. Their Kodya would work them till they dropped, and then take them to dinner, then bed.

The only plus side that Gyrus could think of was that the more they trained, the less people came to watch them. Eventually even Ragan, who had held out the longest, decided she had better things to do with her time than watch three losers fail at exercise and left them alone.

This seemed to cheer Kodya up considerably, unfortunately it did not mean that they got to do any less work. It did mean however, that sometimes Kodya let them train with jump boots and other more “fun” work.

Or fun for Kodya at least.

“What does sparing mean?” Gyrus asks when Kodya first proposes it.

“It means we will fight one on one,” Tori replies, face brightening considerably.

“Fighting?” Gyrus’s eyebrow crinkles in dismay. “But I’m an engineer! We use our minds not our fists!”

“In this world, plenty of things will use their fists, or worse,” Kodya shrugs. “So you’ve got to learn how to fight back.”

Gyrus wonders if he’s thinking about Ragan’s attack.

_“Oh believe me, he’s thinking of much, much worse,”_ the voice in his head shutters.

_“Don,”_ the other voice adds, solemnly.

_“No!”_ the first voice snaps.

“I’m ready!” Sylvia bounces forward, body already in a crouching position. “Bring it on!”

Kodya shakes his head. “You and Tori both have experience fighting. I’d say that if anyone should go first, it’s Gyrus and me, so that he learns what the rules are.”

“Me?!” Gyrus steps back, hands in the air. “But I don’t want to!”

“Too bad,” Kodya smirks as he raises his fists. “Most things you fight aren’t going to care if you want to or not. So give it your all!” He ends with a solid blow aimed directly at Gyrus’ head.

Gyrus jumps out of the way, but Kodya keeps coming. “Hey!” he shouts. “You didn’t explain the rules!”

“Rules are simple!” Kodya aims a kick at his torso that sends him flying backwards. “First person to keep the other on the ground wins!”

“Oh come on!” Gyrus pulls himself up from the ground. Kodya stands still, letting him do so. “I’ve never fought before! Shouldn’t you give me some pointers first?”

He ducks under another punch. Kodya promptly elbows him in the back of the head. “The best way to learn is to get out there and try.”

Gyrus pulls himself up to his hands and knees, panting. Kodya stands over him again. “That’s twice I’ve knocked you down by the way,” he points out. “If I were a real enemy, you’d be dead already.” Suddenly there’s a weapon in his hands, seemingly appearing out of thin air. He aims it directly at Gyrus. “You need to start taking this seriously!”

Gyrus dodges and uses his jump boots, which he’s eternally grateful he remembered to bring, to fling himself out of the way.  
“That’s not fair!” Gyrus points out. 

“Aye!” Tori crosses her arms from the side of the room. “The rules dictate that there are to be no weapons!”

“Cheater!” Sylvia waves her fists.

“Fights are never fair when lives are on the line kid.” Kodya ignores them in favor of looking directly at Gyrus. “You have to use everything in your disposal to win. That’s what your adversary will do too.” 

_What exactly do you think I’ll be facing?_ Gyrus wonders.

“That was much better though!” Kodya grins as he raises his fist. “I want you to really try and hit me this time! There just might be a prize in it for you!”

_A prize huh?_ Gyrus readies himself for another attack. _That sounds interesting._ But how was he going to get close to an armed opponent? He glanced back and forth, looking for any kind of tool or advantage he could use. His eyes landed on Tori and Sylvia. He winks. Sylvia grins as Tori nods.

He turns back to Kodya, who raises his fists, now curiously empty of the weapons. _Ok, let’s start this properly._ He leaned down, and pushed off with his jump boots, barreling directly to Kodya. Kodya grabs Gyrus’s arms, using his own momentum to send him outwards. Gyrus catches himself in mid air and dives back down.

“Predictable!” Kodya laughs, readying his arms to grab Gyrus again. 

“Syl!” Gyrus shouts as she barrels into Kodya. Kodya gives a yelp of surprise as she sends him barreling over, but quickly he regains his balance to drag her body into Gyrus’s flight path. Gyrus collides into her back with a grunt, sending them both flying off Kodya.

“Clever!” Kodya raises his fists. “But don’t yell out your plan before an attack! That’s just basic stealth!”

“For some, announcing an attack is a sign of skill,” Tori says as she attempts to punch him in the face.

“And most of those people die when they fight someone stronger than them.” Kodya ducks and kicks out at her. She blocks it with her arms but the force pushes her back. 

Sylvia jumps behind him, grabbing his chest as she tries to drag him down. He elbows her hard in the face, but Gyrus doesn’t let him have a second longer. Readying his jump boots, he throws himself forward, hitting Kodya squarely in the back, and forcing them all forward. Kodya struggles under the pile of limbs, but even he was no match for three very determined students.

“Do we win?” Gyrus asks as he leans down to Kodya’s ear. Kodya groans. 

“Yes, but next time we fight one at a time. You do need to learn to fight a stronger opponent without help.”

“Don’t cheat, and we won’t interfere,” Tori sniffs as Sylvia let go of Kodya.

“That’s not the lesson I’m trying to teach,” Kodya reaches out to brush the hair out of his eyes.

But Gyrus isn’t listening to them, too fascinated by the weapon that has appeared beside Kodya. None of the others have noticed it either, too busy arguing. It’s a sword. A very familiar sword. But where has he seen it before? He reaches out a hand to touch the smooth handle. It fits perfectly in his fist.

“Don’t touch that!” Kodya yells, twisting out of Tori and Sylvia’s loose holds, hand outstretched.

Startled, Gyrus drops the sword and flings his hands up in defense to stop the oncoming attack. Nothing happened. Gyrus tentatively opened his eyes to see a strange green light holding Kodya back, arm still outstretched, in the air.

“The hell?!” Gyrus . The bright green light vanishes, sending Kodya collapsing back onto the ground. “What was that?!”

_“Oh I’ve missed that power. I use so many different ones now, why don’t I use it anymore?”_ a voice in his head muses.

_“Maybe because you spend all your time shadowing people!”_ another voice snaps back.

“I don’t suppose you could explain that away could you?” Kodya sighs. 

Gyrus shakes his head.

Kodya drops his head to his arms as he lets out a string of Russian swear words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even in the Room of Swords, there is no escaping P.E.
> 
> Anan: "So if this is so corny, How do you know so much about it?"  
> Yumeji, franticly shoving his Bill Cipher cosplay into the back of his closet, "No reason!"


	8. Skewed Perceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited confrontation occurs.

“Is this a side effect of the pathogens, or is this something else?” Gyrus asks as Kodya’s swearing comes to a stop. A muffled groan is all he gets in response. 

“I told thou so!” Tori crosses her arms, looking entirely pleased with herself. “I told ye there were powers!”

“You did what?!” Kodya’s head snaps up to glare at Tori. Unfortunately, he moves up too quickly and beans Sylvia in the nose. Both wince. 

“Ow,” Sylvia complains as she rubs her nose. 

An idea crosses Gyrus’s mind, and he stretches out an arm, biting his lip as he concentrates on Sylvia

_“Yes young padawan, feel the force within you,”_ a voice whispers in the back of his mind.

_“What are you doing?”_ another voice questions as a slap echoed inside Gyrus’s head.

_“Oww! What was that for? I was just trying to do what you said! Say wise things so he listens!”_

_“By quoting old movie references?”_

_“Oh come on! Our power totally works like the force! You’re telling me in all your nine years of experience you didn’t notice that?”_

There’s a beat of blessed silence before the other voice goes, _“...True.”_

_Like the force?_ Gyrus thinks. _I can work with that._ He furrows his brow, and watches as Sylvia floats up into the air, surrounded by a green light. She giggles and pretends to swim as he moves her through the air and off Kodya.

_“Look he’s listening! It’s working!”_ the first voice claps his hands enthusiastically. 

_“Huh, who would have thought it?”_ the other muses.

Gyrus shakes his head, trying to get rid of the voices, and promptly drops Sylvia. She lands on Tori with a crash.

“That was amazing!” She jumps up, pushing herself upright on the bright red Tori. “I was flying!”

“I guess I still gotta work out the kinks,” Gyrus laughs as he rubs the back of his neck. _And get some people to shut up._ He mentally adds.

_“Hey! Without him you wouldn’t even know how to use that! Don’t be rude!”_

_“Are… are you defending me? You?”_

“No!” Kodya pulls himself up to his knees, eyes wide. “Gyrus you cannot use that in front of the others, do you understand me?” He grips Gyrus’s shoulders, hands tight. He used my name, Gyrus noticed.

“What, afraid for your own skin?” Tori snaps as she moves forward to pry Kodya off Gyrus. Sylvia hovers beside her, ready to come to her aid.

Gyrus winces a bit as Kodya’s grip tightens instinctively as Tori tries to claw him off, then he looks up into the clear blue eyes to see real fear. The sight makes his insides twist. Whatever he’s kept from him, Kodya has always treated him decently. It feels wrong to put that look in his eyes. Like he’s the villain.

“Tori, stop,” he says. She looks at him quizzically, but reluctantly lets go and moves back to Sylvia, who puts a hand on her shoulders. Gyrus pulls his hands into his lap and folds them. “Can you tell me why I can’t use them?” he asks.

Kodya’s eyes dart to the many open doorways all around them. “Not here,” he whispers.

_So he's willing to explain then._ Gyrus thinks. “Could you explain in our room?”

Kodya shakes his head. Gyrus holds back a sigh. What else can he suggest? The laundry room?

“I think I know just the place,” Sylvia giggles. “He’s a member after all!”  
\-----------------  
“I don’t think this location is very secure,” Kodya grumbles as he presses up awkwardly against the shelves of cleaner. 

“It’s traditional!” Gyrus grins as he ducks his head to avoid the back ledge. “Besides, no one comes down this corridor except for Anan and us and...you,” he adds the last part as Kodya’s eyebrow rises up higher and higher. “But until you came, it was very safe! So it’s not likely we’ll get bothered again.”

“We have taken precautions,” Tori adds as she leans back against the brooms. 

“Yeah! We put a sign up on it, like we’re supposed to do when toilets break!” Sylvia chimes in from her place on the mop bucket. “It should keep everyone away.”

Kodya does not look at all reassured, but he doesn’t say anything. “Let’s just get down to it.” He shifts slightly and his weight pushes the cleaner slightly forward on the top shelf. “Powers only manifest if you have contact with a boss sword, which Don has made very clear that if you happen to come upon one before he has deemed you ready, you will be reset, not questions asked.”

“Reset?” Gyrus asks, curious at the terminology.

Kodya freezes. He opens his mouth, closes it, then lets out a deep sigh. “I guess I’ll have to explain from the beginning. When we arrived here, we all discovered that this place was… strange. Like something out of a fairy tale, or a nightmare. And it had an effect on us that was equally strange. We developed powers when in contact with the boss sword.”

“That is a lie.” Tori points an accusing finger at Kodya, which only causes her hair to get more tangled in the brooms. “I was suddenly able to break through the monster's spit, yet I have never touched thou’s precious sword.”

“That’s because you killed a warden,” Kodya rolls his eyes. “You gained his ability, not your own.”

“What’s a warden?” Gyrus asks. Kodya facepalms.

“A giant purple monster,” Tori supplies. 

“He was trying to kill Tori!” Sylvia adds.

“But Gyrus, ye came to my aid, with those powers, you have found, and fought the monsters alongside us. Until this man killed you,” she scowls at Kodya.

Gyrus looks at Kodya, but there was no change in his expression. Gyrus’s breath quickens. So it was true. He did kill him.

“I didn’t kill him,” Kodya says through gritted teeth, “I reset him. He lost three weeks, but in exchange he got to enter the Room of Swords without being lynched. It was the only option I had.”

“I don’t understand,” Gyrus says. _So Tori was right, he did kill me,_ he thinks. _He told me he saved me, and he killed me! He grits his teeth._

“The world's outside, we call them realms. They operate on a timer of sorts. Once time runs out, darkness overtakes it all, and anything still left inside gets devoured.”

“Devoured?!” Gyrus shrieks.

“Shadows, not important right now, they don’t come in here.” Kodya shrugs. “Where was I...? Right. If you die before the time runs out, you get reset, and wake up again where you started without any memories. Just like you did in the medbay. The only way to continue to remember is if you get stabbed by the boss sword and it stays in your body. I taught you how to do so because I needed help, but we agreed it wouldn’t last beyond those three weeks. 

“So the twelve are still out there?” Asks Tori. “Shouldn’t we send a search party?”

Kodya shakes his head. “Their death was different, not the type you can come back from.” he turns to Gyrus, “Does that clear things up?”

“No it really doesn’t,” Gyrus scowls. “Let’s say I believe you, and killing me and erasing my memory was to save me. Why lie? Why create such an elaborate excuse about rescuing me from a crash? Why pretend to be my roommate?”

“I’m with Gyrus,” adds Sylvia. “That didn’t make any sense.”

“I am your roommate,” Kodya insists, shifting forward. “Make no mistake. I may have found you with no memories in the same realm as Tori and Sylvia, but you were not from there. You got lost, sure. But you were always one of us.” There’s a hard edge to his tone, like he expects Gyrus to disagree. 

“If I was one of you, why are you so worried I’m going to get killed?” Gyrus crosses his arms. Tori nods in agreement, nearly knocking the brooms behind her over as she does so.

“Because you got sick,” Kodya closes his eyes. “Really sick. It wasn’t like any sickness I’d seen before, but it… it wasn’t good. What happened to you…” he shakes his head. “The others, they’re afraid that resetting you didn’t cure you, and that it could come back. That’s why they wouldn’t let you in without it, and why you aren’t allowed to use your powers until we’re sure it’s completely gone.”

And here we are, back with the sickness again. Gyrus frowns. It makes some sense, given the quarantine and the check-up. If Kodya is right and he is from here before Tori and Sylvia found him outside, it would neatly explain the others behavior without making it sinister. Except the behavior has been sinister, especially Ragan’s. And then there’s the underlying fear, and the twelve deaths in a world where supposedly no one could die.

“What were the symptoms?” Gyrus asks. Everyone’s eyes snap to him.

Kodya frowns. “You haven’t shown any, you don’t need to worry.” But Gyrus shakes his head.

“I need you to try,” Gyrus says. “Please.” For a second, Kodya doesn’t move. Gyrus doesn’t either, although out of the corner of his eye he knew Sylvia and Tori were looking between them. He held Kodya’s gaze, and saw the exact moment when something behind his eyes crumbled.

“I’m not a doctor,” he warns. “And you were always very private about it. So there’s probably a lot I missed. But I do know some of the main symptoms.” He swallows. “Nightmares were the most obvious. You’d wake up screaming, and then seek me out. The amount of times I had to soothe you back to sleep,” he touches his wrist, “, but that’s not important. The rest were less clear. Your mind bothered you a lot, you had to meditate almost daily, sometimes at odd hours of the night. Sometimes you’d disappear for days, only to return and act like nothing had happened.”

_“Is this really true?”_ one of the voices asks. 

_“Shush, Kodya is talking, and right now all I want is to listen to the melodious sound of his voice,”_ the other says.

“You’d get reckless on missions,” Kodya continues, “like you didn’t trust anyone to do the job for you. And paranoid, especially towards the end. You wouldn’t even tell me what was going on.” 

“Oh,” Kodya’s eyes meet Gyrus’s, hollow and sad. “And there was a symptom you only told Don, not me. After your first serious disappearance, he told me you heard voices.”

The room seems to spin around Gyrus as he feels all the blood drain from his face. Kodya’s words repeat over and over in his head.   
“Gyrus?” Tori asks, but Gyrus isn’t listening. He stumbles back, head banging against the back of the ledge, and then all went black.

\-------------------  
He awakes on his ship. His real ship, not the strange place that everyone calls his ship. And yet even this isn’t really his ship, he can tell.

“Hey, you okay?” A voice comes from beside him. His head whirls to the right to see a man wearing large goggles grinning at him. “You were completely out for a while there,” the man says.

“I’m at my station?” Gyrus looks down at the keyboard and coffee before him.

“Well yeah, where did you think you were?” the man twists towards him. Then he frowns at Gyrus’ pale face. “You don’t look too good. Do you need to go to the doc? I can take you.”

“Actually,” Gyrus pulls himself up. “I think I need to go to the Captain.” He strolls out the door, leaving the figure behind him to watch him leave.

The hallways outside is a familiar white, but the closer he gets to the command room, the darker it gets. He picks up the pace, strange dreams falling into place as he marches towards the command room door. The closer he gets, the more he can hear it, the whispers plaguing his mind. But the noise only makes him angrier as he continues forward. Raising both hands, he shoves the doors open with a bang, not caring for protocol or decorum. Not in this mental palace of lies. 

“You’re the disease!” He shouts, as the two figures inside look up at his arrival. “The reason everyones so mad at me, the reason I can’t remember anything, the reason I did something terrible before, it’s all you!”

The two Gyri stare at him, identical purple eyes glowing. The one clothed in black is the first to respond. “Is that what they told you?” he smirks.

“Weren’t you the one who was just going on about Kodya’s ‘melodious voice’,” the one in ripped yellow made air quotes, “, a couple seconds ago?”

“You are not helping,” the black clothed one says out of the corner of his mouth as Gyrus draws back in fury.

“How could you!” Gyrus shakes his fist at their faces. “I was starting to listen to you! But all you are is a trigger for my own mental deterioration! Get out of my head!”

The black clothed one sighs. “I’m afraid shouting isn’t going to help you at all.”

“No,” the one with the shorter hair steps forward. “Look, this guy,” he gestured to his companion, “definitely responsible for those murders.”

“That’s highly subjective-” the other starts.

“Murder’s murder,” the other replies.

“Murder?!” Gyrus yells. “You murdered someone-I murdered someone?”

The one in torn yellow raised his hands. “It’s alright. He did that, but not you. And not me.” he places his hand on his chest. “We can completely rewrite ourselves if we want to, we don’t have to be him.”

“But you should at least consider all the facts beforehand,” the longer haired one chimes in. 

“No,” Gyrus takes a step back, shaking his head. “No. You aren’t real. Neither of you are.” 

The yellow one’s face falls as Gyrus turns away. “Gyrus!” he reaches out an arm, but Gyrus shakes it off. “I don’t listen to disease,” he snaps. “I’m turning myself into the medbay, soon as I wake up.”

“They’ll kill you,” the one in black points out. “You know that.”

“Then I probably deserve it,” Gyrus sniffs.

“How do you know?” the black clad on says. 

Gyrus halts. 

“No one will give you answers,” he continues. “Even those that love you are struggling to hide it from you, hoping to protect you. But if you really want to know, I can provide you with memories of the events. So you can find your own cause.”

“Or you can not look at his creepy memories, and look at my, decidedly less creepy ones about how we met Sylvia and Tori!” the yellow one grins. “See it doesn’t need to be doom and death, you can live completely normally in this weird world that we’re stuck in.”

Gyrus hesitates for one second more, then shakes his head. “I don’t know what your game is, or why you can’t seem to make up your mind, but I’m not listening to you. Either of you.” he adds with a glare at the ripped yellow clothed one. “I’m leaving.”

The light flashes green, and he finds himself staring at the back of his own eyelids as Tori and Kodya call his name anxiously above. 

Gyrus opens his eyes, to see both Kodya and Tori looking down on him, expressions matching looks of worry. He’s being cradled in someone’s arms, and a quick glance above reveals it to be Sylvia.

“Ye’re awake!” Tori exclaims as she brings her hand up to feel Gyrus’s forehead. “Ye suddenly collapsed while Kodya was talking,” she sends Kodya a glare.

Kodya winces. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s fine,” Gyrus smiles at him, a strained smile. “It wasn’t your fault. You were only doing what I asked you to do.”

If anything, that makes Kodya look even more guilty. For a second, Gyrus is overcome with the urge to tell him what really happened, what set him off. Kodyas had to have heard of it before, he might have some advice. Gyrus opens his mouth. “I-”

A loud rumble echoes close to his ear. Gyrus starts. “Oops,” Sylvia gives him a sheepish grin. “It’s getting close to dinner, I guess I’m a bit more hungry than I thought.”

“Dinner, yeah,” Gyrus pulls himself up slowly, leaning heavily on Tori and Kodya’s outstretched hands. “We should probably go.” All the courage to tell Kodya vanishing as fear and doubt took its place.

“Are you sure?” Tori asks. “Ye just fainted. Perhaps we should take thee to see Nephthys.”

“It’s fine Tori,” Gyrus grins. “I just got too hungry, what with all the exercise and revelations, and fainted. I’ll be fine when I’ve got some food in my stomach.”

“Fainting from hunger, I know what that’s like.” Sylvia gives a grave nod. “It was a real problem in my village.”

Sylvia’s words seem to moderately reassure Tori; she begins to relax her shoulders. Gyrus turns a grateful grin on Sylvia. She smiles back.

Only Kodya looks unconvinced, face falling into a worrying frown that lasts the whole walk to the cafeteria.

\---------------------  
“No!” Gyrus gasps awake, sweat streaming down his body. He looks around wildly, but there’s no one in sight. He gives a gasping shutter and tries to calm his beating heart. Just a nightmare. But a nightmare which could be another sign of his increasing madness. He hugs his knees. 

Above him a figure emerges on the stairs. Gyrus flinches as the nightmare plays again in his mind, _“You should have listened.”_ However Kodya’s face is not cold and uncaring. Only sleepy.

“Did you have another nightmare kid?” he asks. 

“I’m sorry,” Gyrus buries his head in his knees. “I’ll try to be quieter.”

“No worries,” Kodya gives a little yawn as he walks down the stairs. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” Gyrus looks away, “what if, -” his voice cracks, “it’s a bad sign?”

Kodya sits down on the edge of the bed with a thump. Even as far away as he is, Gyrus can feel the bed shift under his weight. “Tell me about it, and I’ll tell you.”

_That makes sense,_ Gyrus supposes. _If anyone knows what this looks like, it’s probably the person who had to put up with it._ He still doesn’t know if he trusts Kodya, but right now, he needs help and Kodya might be able to provide it. He scrunches his eyes together, trying to focus on the hazy details of the dream. 

“Sylvia got squashed by a giant shoe.”

Kodya’s face freezes with a grin half on. “What?”

But Gyrus keeps going, fearful that if he stops he’ll forget entirely. “And Tori was eaten by a cyclops. And the sun died! And you,” he looks back down at his knees. “you killed me.”

“Oh,” Kodya looks down. “Well,” His shoulders straighten. “Most of that sounds pretty stupid. So I doubt you’ve got anything to worry about.”

“That’s good,” Gyrus says, still staring at his knees. For a while they’re silent. Then the bed shifts. 

Gyrus looks up to see Kodya leaning forward, jaw set. “I can help you,” he offers. “If you’d like.”

“How?” Gyrus asks, and Kodya holds out his hand. Gyrus stares at it, then looks up at Kodya, eyebrow raised.

“I need skin contact kid,” Kodya sighs. “Just give me your hand.” 

Gyrus reaches out his hand, and stops seconds away from connecting. He glances up at Kodya, studying his face, but the man’s expression is unreadable. Gyrus feels like he’s standing over a precipice, and a single wrong footstep could send him toppling over. But he needs help, and Kodya, he’d done something back when Gyrus first woke up. It had been followed up by lies, but it had nonetheless calmed him. Gyrus bites his lip, and stretches his fingers out to solidly grasp Kodya’s hand.

The relief is instant. It feels like a soft blanket has been pulled around him. Gyrus closes his eyes as a soothing wave reaches out and washes away all his worries and fears. He feels warm, accepted, and secure, like nothing in the world can hurt him.

“What is this?” he murmurs lazily against the haze of comfort. 

“A soothe spell,” Kodya’s voice holds a smile inside it. “It’s pretty nice isn’t it?”

“Uhuh,” Gyrus agrees, lost in the sea of peace and safety. He can feel his muscles relaxing, and wow he’s tired. Surely Kodya won’t mind him lying down for a bit. He stretches out on the bed, hand still awkwardly holding on to Kodya’s. 

The bed shifts as Kodya gets up, tugging Gyrus’s hand up into the air with it. Gyrus can vaguely feel the sheets being rearranged to cover him, and a pillow being tucked under his head. And still the connection remains as Kodya settles himself on the ground beside the bed, waiting patiently as Gyrus drifts further and further away.

The last thing he remembers before sleep takes him is Kodya giving his hand a slight squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan on night shift, watching Gyrus's room. "This is pointless! Why do we need to keep someone here to watch him sleep? I feel like a creep!"  
> Falls asleep.  
> Wakes up to see Kodya sitting beside the bed and holding Gyrus's hand. "WHAT? Kodya made a move?? And I missed it? Wait a minute! Kodya made a _move._ He's upping his game! If I don't figure out something soon, he'll surpass me for most hopeless suitor in the Room of Swords!"  
> Runs out of the observation room, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Feather!!!! I need your help!!!"  
> Feather promptly bespells him with the smell of rotting unions and rolls back over.


	9. Trust No One

Gyrus wakes slowly, reluctant to leave the blank nothingness of sleep for the cruel light of morning. No, not quite nothingness, there has been a dream there, but so soothing and quiet he can’t even remember what had happened in it. Someone warm and kind had been holding him. Maybe...his mother?

_“Never think that again. So help me!”_ A voice in the back of his head screeches.

_“Be Quiet! Do you want to make him even madder?”_ snaps the other.

_“Sorry I just, gah! I don’t have an Oedipus complex. I don’t!”_

The voices, He shouldn’t be listening, but why does that matter? Oh. He sits up straight, and shakes his head, violently. _Quiet!_ He thinks as loudly as he could. _It’s my mind! I don’t want to hear you!_

His mind is silent. The voices at least, have decided to listen. But a nagging fear in the back of Gyrus’s mind told him that they aren’t really gone. Just laying low, waiting to strike. 

He shakes his head again, and moves to get out of bed. He glances down and freezes, foot a second away from landing on the sleeping face below. 

Kodya lay beside the bed, curled in a ball with one arm tucked beneath his head. He looks softer somehow without the constant frown and furrowed brows. For the first time, Gyrus realizes just how young he is, not much older than himself, if at all. The very notion is jarring somehow, as if all the suspicion and authority he possesses should naturally belong to someone much older. 

What is he supposed to do with that fact? Gyrus frowns as he watches the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. Kodya, who had killed him as Tori has always claimed? Kodya who lied to him about it and said he saved him instead? Kodya who is so against him using his powers, to save who? Himself? Kodya who told him he is sick when pressed into a corner, as if that justifies anything that Gyrus has gone through.

By all accounts he ought to hate him. But, he thinks as he watches Kodya shift in his sleep, causing some hair to fall off his face and reveal the jagged scar down his face. But that isn’t all is it? Kodya, whose first instinct was to use magic to comfort him when they first met, despite it being something that didn’t fit the narrative everyone was trying to feed him. Kodya who brought him food when he was quarantined, who argued to Captain Don that he was fine, who had covered for him when he and the girls had gone into a dangerous area. Kodya who had trained him to fight, who had kept the closet gang a secret. And Kodya again, who had offered comfort in the wake of a nightmare.

How is he supposed to fit the two Kodyas together in his head? How can he trust someone who had lied and killed him? How can he ignore someone who treats him with nothing but kindness? 

Gyrus wishes with all his heart he had someone to confide all this in, to ask for advice. A name floats in his mind, just out of reach, I- something... Irene? No, masculine, but it’s gone now. Maybe he can talk to the Captain. But that’s foolish. Don has been the one to enforce this, he’s the last person Gyrus can trust. 

Tori and Sylvia then? But something makes Gyrus hesitate. They’re just as mixed up in this as Kodya and Gyrus, but they haven’t seen his scarier side. They don’t know about the nightmares or the voices. They’re so sure Gyrus is a good person, and that Kodya and Don are the bad guys, but with the fear in everyone else's eyes, and the symptoms of the sickness...Gyrus doesn’t want to let them down. He doesn’t want them to realize he’s the type of person they should be afraid of.

An image plays behind his eyes, of a fire with six figures laughing around it, and a tide of loneliness floods him. A faint sobbing echoes in his mind, as if his heart is crying out in agreement.

_“I hate to say this, but could you cry quieter?”_

_“I’m sorry, I just miss them all so much...”_

Oh great. The voices are back. Just what he needs.

_“I’m sorry,”_ the voice in his head sniffled. _“I’m trying to be quiet, but you just keep playing memories that make me really, really nostalgic. We get teary eyed when we get nostalgic! Remember Halmeoni’s birthday?”_

He does in fact remember Halmeoni’s birthday, and how he’d cried so much Halmeoni--his grandmother--had thought he’d gotten hurt. But he doesn’t want to think of that right now and prove the voice right.

Kodya gives a little whimper and Gyrus’s attention snaps to him. His nose scrunches up, and he lets out a whine as his eyes struggle to open. He looks up, eyes focusing on Gyrus, and for one second, he looks completely and inexplicably happy. Then it’s gone under his usual mask of gruff unconcern. 

“What happened?” He groans as he reaches up to massage his neck. “And why am I on the floor?”

“I had a nightmare,” Gyrus offers. “You put me back to sleep.”

“Did I?” Kodya coughs into his fist. “Well, just don’t make a habit of it ok?” He glances up at a spot on the wall and then down at the ground. 

Gyrus follows his line of sight to an otherwise inconspicuous dot on the wall. His eyes narrow. Can it be? It would explain why Kodya hasn’t wanted to explain about his powers while in their room, but no, surely they won’t let Kodya live here if they’re spying all the time?

Kodya pulls himself up to his feet, and moves towards the closet. “Bathroom’s yours,” he grunts, then pauses before the closet. “Oh, and Gyrus?”

“Yeah?” Gyrus watches him warily. 

“Try not to run into any giant shoes ok?” Kodya says. It’s almost funny, and Gyrus tries to hold in a snort. But something feels off with Kodya, he’s talking too loudly, and he’s positioned his head so that Gyrus’ face is directly out of the strange spot’s view.  
Or Gyrus is just being paranoid. And isn’t that one of the symptoms Kodya had described? He gives Kodya a smile. “Of course. It was only a nightmare. It sounds silly when you say it out loud.”

Kodya turns back to enter their huge closet, and Gyrus is left alone with his thoughts.

\------------------------  
Morning cleaning had been a subdued affair. Tori and Sylvia could see that the revelations of yesterday were bothering Gyrus, but he turned away any concern with a subtle shake of his head. They’d turn back to their own tasks, frowns on their faces. Only Anan seemed in a good mood, and very confused as to the sober behavior of all his cleaners. 

“Come on guys! Cheer up!” he says, lifting his mop into the air. “You’ve got training today, isn’t that fun?” He sidles up to Sylvia with a grin.

She simply shrugs and turns away, leaving the grin to slide off his face. 

“I have no desire to see that self-serving liar,” Tori says with a huff.

“Self-serving liar?” Anan’s expression turns confused. “You're not talking about Kodya right?”

_Tori can you please not?_ Gyrus thinks to himself. _The last thing we need to do now is tell them we know what we know!_ He opens his mouth, but Tori gets there quicker.

“He fights with no honor, even against an unarmed opponent,” she slaps her mop onto the ground with a vicious slap.

Gyrus breathes a slight sigh of relief. She isn’t going to say anything to get them caught. Good.

“Hey, now.” Anan raises his hands. “Honor is a luxury we really can’t afford anymore. He gets the job done, what more could you ask for?”

Tori snorts. “He faced an opponent with no skills and still felt the need to draw a weapon? Nay. He could have afforded honor, if he had any.”

“Drew a weapon?” Anan repeats, a slight frown on his lips. “What kind of weapon?”

“A dagger!” Gyrus chimes in. “He had a dagger hidden on him.” He shoots Tori a look.

“I didn’t know Kodya had a dagger,” Anan frowned. 

“Well he does, and he tried to stab me with it,” Gyrus snapped, perhaps with more anger than was really necessary. 

“Oh I see,” Anan’s expression softened into pity. “Harsh treatment from a close...friend.” He winked at the last word. “I can see how that would make you upset. But in the words of my loving Grandma: You may condemn someone you love, but you will pay his fine.”

Everyone stares at him, eyes wide and confused. “What’s a fine?” Sylvia asks, blinking her eyes even wider. 

_Please tell me you’re messing with him,_ Gyrus thinks.

Anan blushes. “You know, when you get in trouble you have to pay a fine in goods?”

Sylvia cocks her head in confusion. _Oh no, She’s not messing with him,_ Gyrus thinks.

“For a noble maybe,” Tori says. “But where I come from, criminals are thrown in prison.”

_Bargaining? Prison? whatever happened to community service?_ Gyrus thinks to himself, but keeps silent. A slight worry eats at the back of his mind, that Tori might not be exaggerating and the extent of her cosplay causes her to actually believe things like ‘class structure’ still exists. Maybe there’s a reason World War III killed them all off. And then there’s Sylvia. How can she possibly not know what a fine is? Even Gyrus knows what that means. What secrets are they keeping from him like Kodya and Don are?

He shakes his head. That’s a stupid thought, even for him. 

“Nevermind,’ Anan turns back to his mopping, “this is what I get for trying to interfere.”

They all turn back to their mops, washing down the endless hallways in somber silence. The repetitive movement begins to cast an almost hypnotic spell over Gyrus, he pushes the mop back and forth, back and forth, and doesn't have to think about anything, Kodya, the voices, anything at all. In fact it seems like he’s going back into the hall of his own ship…

_“He’s getting closer,”_ a voice whispers.

_“Shush,”_ the other hisses.

The door to the kitchen flies open with a bang. “Oh no!” Oli cries out.

“Is something wrong?” Gyrus cries, snapping to attention as Oli stumbles out, smoke following after him.

“Are you okay?” Sylvia chimes in.

“It’s okay! I’m okay!” Oli waves the smoke away from his face. “I just…” He stops talking as his eyes meet Sylvia’s confused ones. His whole face drains of color as he grabs Gyrus by the shoulder and tugs him into the kitchen and slams the door.

“Hey!” Anan shouts after him. “We haven’t finished cleaning yet!”

“Sorry!” Oli braces his considerable weight against the door so Anan can’t get it to open. “But something’s broken, and I really need Gyrus!”

The handle turns a few more times, either from Tori or Anan, but Oli holds it firmly shut. Finally Anan’s voice grumbles out, “Fine. But Kodya’s gonna want him for practice.”

“Okay!” Oli calls through the door. He waits a few more minutes, until the last few sounds of mopping left. Gyrus begins to get dizzy from all the smoke. Oli towers over him, a bulging wall of muscle. If he has bad intentions there’s nothing Gyrus will be able to do to stop him.

Oli turns to Gyrus, and Gyrus takes a half a step back as the giant of the man, face obscured by the smoke, reaches out to grab him by both shoulders. Gyrus only has enough time to think, _this is the end,_ before Oli’s face comes into view.

“You’ve got to help me!” He sobs, tears and snot running unashamedly down his face. “I don’t know what to do!”

“What?” Gyrus stares.

Oli gives a pathetic sniffle. “I was trying to make chocolate, but I keep burning it, and now the oven is broken and…” he breaks off to wipe away some of the tears. “I just really need your help!”

“Okay,” Gyrus coughs. “Could we maybe open the door and let the smoke out first?”

“Oh right!” Oli opens the door and begins fanning the smoke out into the hallway. “Sorry, I just didn’t want Anan to overhear, or he might try to stop me.”

“Why would Anan try to stop you?” Gyrus says as he waves the smoke away from his face.

“Because I’m making chocolate Gyrus! The chocolate!” Gyrus blinks, uncomprehending and Oli sighs. “The chocolate for Sylvia,” he says.

“Oh! Right!” Gyrus says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I totally forgot about that, so much has been going on lately, with training and, other things.” he lowers his arm and looks down. Cooking with Oli felt like a lifetime ago, back before he’d suspected anything was off.

“It’s ok,” Oli pats his shoulder. “Most people tend to forget. Unless they need something.”

Well that just makes him feel a hundred times worse. Gyrus winces. Oli seems not to notice, instead turning towards the oven with a worried frown. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I tried all the tricks I knew and it still won’t stop smoking.”

Gyrus follows after him, and wow, it looks pretty bad. “You’ve totally fried the heating bar,” he frowns. “That’ll take hours to fix.”

“Oh,” Oli’s shoulders sag, and Gyrus feels his heart go out to him.

“But you don’t really need an oven to cook chocolate.” He gives Oli a smile. “Just a bunsen burner and a double boiler.”

“A double what?” Oli looks confused.

Gyrus grins.

\------------------------  
Oli proved to be a quick study, quicker in fact, than most of the other engineers in Gyrus’ first year at the academy. He really only had to explain the concept of a double boiler once to Oli and he managed to whip up a makeshift version within minutes from simple objects lying around the kitchen. If he were running this ship, Oli wouldn’t be wasted in the kitchen, no sir. Now if only something could be done for his self confidence so he could realize that and file a formal complaint with Don.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Oli eyes their creation worriedly.

“Absolutely!” Gyrus grins and very carefully pushes the pot back into a more balanced position. “The metal it’s balancing on might be small, but the water between the pan and the pot is essential for controlling the temperatures. This way, there is no way your chocolate can burn!”

“That’s because the water will keep it at its boiling point right?” Oli leans closer.

“You got it!” Gyrus laughs. “Now hand me the butter.”

Oli does so, and the two begin to mix together some chocolate. Half way through Oli politely asks Gyrus to step aside, and begins to mix and make it himself.

Gyrus leans against the counter, watching him work with a smile on his face. His nostrils fill with the heavenly aroma of chocolate and the lingering effects of the smoke from earlier. A question crosses his mind, ruining the comforting atmosphere between them. He hesitates, glancing at the now closed door. He shakes his head. It’s only Oli, it can’t hurt to ask.

“Hey Oli?” he starts.

“Yeah?” Oli replies without looking up from the chocolate he’s stirring.

“The last time we saw each other, back when Kodya started training us. Why were you there?”

“I was worried about what would happen,” Oli shrugs as he stuck a spoon in to give the chocolate an experimental taste.

“But why?” Gyrus presses. “It was only us.”

“Well, I know you’re not a threat, and Anan knows you’re not a threat, and probably Don too,” Oli raises the spoon to his lips. “But after what happened with Ragan, her saying you knew Cib’s name, people got scared.”

“Because she was one of the twelve?” Gyrus says. Oli chokes, dropping the spoon in the chocolate and whirling around.

“How do you…?” His hands clutch the back of the counter, eyes wide and white.

“Our ghost hunting expedition got us lost,” Gyrus shrugs, not wanting to contradict Sylvia’s story to Don just in case Oli decides to report this. “We found the abandoned rooms and overheard Kodya and the Captain talking.”

“Oh that’s how, -” Oli’s hands relaxed their grip, “- yes, that makes sense.” He looks down, refusing to meet Gyrus’ eyes.

“It was my fault wasn’t it? Whatever happened to them.” Gyrus says. Oli doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. The way he flinches at the words, how his shoulders tense as he grips the counter far too close to the heat. The confirmation hits like a hammer, even though he’s been expecting it all along. He suddenly feels nauseous, slipping down the counter until he hits the cool tile of the floor. 

“I see,” he says. Because there is really nothing else to say. 

\--------------------  
Gyrus lays on his bed, staring at the wall. Oli had been kind, ushering him out of the kitchen and to his room, promising to explain it to Anan. It made him feel sick to his stomach because he didn’t deserve it. He wondered how he could face Tori and Sylvia again, knowing that everything they had been so set against was true. 

Kodya appears out of the corner of his eye, bustling around the room. Gyrus wonders if he should speak to him, apologize for the distrust, for kicking him out of his room, and for being so pathetic and needing his help so often. He blinked away another tear and it slid down his face. 

Kodya came closer, and as he does so, Gyrus notices something was different about him. He’s Kodya, unmistakably so. But he’s wearing dull grey instead of his characteristic white and blue. His hair chopped short and jagged, and as he turns to look at Gyrus, Gyrus realizes the scar is missing.

“I found your journal,” Kodya says. “I’m putting it back in your trick drawer.”

“What?” Gyrus sat up sharply. Kodya vanishes before his eyes, leaving only the drawer beside his bed. Gyrus frowns. What had that been? A vision? Another sign of the madness? 

Or was it a memory? Gyrus’s fist closes around the handle. Had he called it a ‘trick drawer?’ He’s never been able to open this one, but if there’s a trick to opening it, maybe…

He stops, glancing back up at the suspicious spot on the wall. Wait a second. Best to take precautions. He moves to stand as Kodya so often did, so that his body mostly blocks the suspicious dot. Then he closes his eyes, and concentrates. 

The strange green energy did not come easily. It took three solid tugs before he succeeded in channeling the force like power inside him as he pulled the drawer open. 

_It reacts to my power!_ Gyrus grins. _I can’t believe that worked!_ He scans the contents of the now open drawer. There are several pencils, each sharpened to a point, and a blue journal tied with a red string. 

Gyrus picks up the journal, and bites his lip. _I’m a little afraid to know what’s inside this journal._ He admits to himself. He flips open the cover to see...a knife?

_Who puts a knife in a journal? Maybe Kodya had added it?_ But no. He remembered Anan’s words earlier. “Kodya doesn’t have a dagger.” No this is definitely done by him.

_How paranoid would I have to be to hide something like this in a book?_ He thinks as he flipped it open.

_“He hid it in my journal? Kodya, light of my life, what were you thinking??”_ a voice screeches. 

_“Wait, that really was Kodya? But it seemed so in character for you.”_ the other snarks back.

_It looks like some of the pages are missing too,_ Gyrus thinks loudly to remind them to shut up. His eyes land on a drawing and his heart leaps to his chest. “What the...?”

A sharp knock comes from the door. Gyrus jumps, shoving the journal back into the drawer and slamming it shut. 

The door opens to reveal Don sitting in his wheelchair, Kodya, Tori, and Sylvia all standing behind.

“Gyrus, there you are,” Don smiles in a way that seemed almost gentle, but is as sharp as the dagger now hidden in the drawer. Behind him, Tori and Sylvia shoot Gyrus unhappy looks. “We were just on our way to the lesson.”

“Lesson?” Gyrus shifts slightly so he covers the drawer better. Kodya notices, and his eyes go wide. 

“What did you do?” he mouths over Don’s shoulder. 

Gyrus ignores him in favor of giving Don his most convincing smile. 

“Oh yes,” Don’s hands ball into fists on the edges of his arm rests. “You see,” His voice turns sickeningly sweet. “I’ll be taking over your training for a while.”

Kodya drops his eyes to the ground as if he’s been slapped. Gyrus wonders how anything said so softly can sound so terrifying.

_“This is nothing, wait till he starts talking about fruit,”_ a voice mutters in the back of his head.

_“I’m beginning to miss the eye monsters,”_ the other grumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan: Oh thank goodness, Kodya's hand holding plot failed. I'm still not the most pathetic! (Deep sigh of relief)  
> Feather:...  
> Anan: Wait a minute! I gave Gyrus advice to try and fix their relationship! I quoted grandma and everything, and Grandma's never wrong! Curse my soft heart!  
> Feather:...  
> Anan: What am I going to do? Do you have any advice?  
> Feather:...  
> Anan: Seduce Gyrus to keep Kodya single? I'm good looking enough to try it, but I could never do that to Sylvie and Kodya!  
> Feather:...  
> Feather: (leaves)


	10. Truth and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don sends Gyrus and friends to an alien planet, that looks eerily like a low budget horror film.

Gyrus stops as Don wheels them all into the largest room he’s ever seen. All the doors and corridors seem to run directly towards it. Around the edges, tables are set at odd intervals. To one side, there is a collection of swords sitting hilt up as if waiting for someone to pick them up. In the center is a raised platform, with glowing warpgates open and running, while a screen blasts the number six from the ceiling. 

“What is this place?” he asks as he stares at the strange blue light of the warpgates in awe. He hadn’t even known they came in blue.

“An entrance point,” Don smiles sharply. “Your training will commence outside of the ship today mi amigos.” He gestures down to three figures waiting below, who appears to be in conversation. They stop at Don’s voice and look up, expressions grim.

“Finally!” Tori exclaims. “I’ve grown tired of all these menial tasks.” Sylvia gives an exclamation of support, hand balled into fists.

Kodya crosses his arms, expression thunderous. Gyrus gets the distinct impression that whatever is waiting for them is not going to be fun at all.

“Are we going on an exploratory mission, Captain?” he asks cautiously.

“Oh no,” Don shakes his head. “You are far from ready for one of those. No. This is a supply run, headed by Ragan. She’s been kind enough to agree to take you with her.” He nods pleasantly at Ragan, who scowls. She does not look like someone who’s at all likely to offer anything out of the kindness of her heart to Gyrus. 

“Whatever,” Ragan rolls her eyes. “If the rookies can’t keep up, I won’t be held accountable for what happens to them.” 

“I cannot stand this woman,” Tori presses a hand to her forehead and suppresses a groan. Sylvia places a comforting hand on her shoulder, and then freezes.

“Anan?” Sylvia asks, “What are you doing here?” Gyrus starts, and turns his attention to Ragan’s two other companions, which are Anan and Feather.

“We thought you were still in charge of cleaning?” Tori adds.

“Oh!” Anan laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was, but I figured I’d best come along on this mission. Figured you’d probably appreciate a friendly face, and you do know me best after all.”

“I’m here to keep an eye on this guy,” Feather adds as they stepped forward. 

“So glad you both decided to come,” Don smiles at them.

“I hope you all brought equipment,” Ragan adds.

Equipment? Gyrus freezes. Was he supposed to bring his space suit?

“Thou never told us to bring equipment!” Tori snaps. “Not to mention ye did seize our weapons and armor!”

_I think you mean space suits and air packs._ Gyrus thinks. Or at least, he very much hopes she does.

“Don’t worry!” Anan pulls out two bundles and holds them out to Sylvia and Tori. “I picked some stuff out for you!”

“Is it food?” Sylvia asks as she takes her bundle. Tori looks reluctant, but takes her own bundle and slowly opens it. What she sees makes her glance up at Anan with a surprised smile.

“This is actually quite tasteful,” she says as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Ahaha,” Anan laughs. “What were ya expecting?” 

“See that?” Tori shoots Kodya a dark look. “A man who knows how to pick proper clothing.” 

Kodya rolls his eyes. “It's not about style, it's all about stats.”

“Stats?” Gyrus asks. Every eye in the room turned to him. Ragan opens her mouth to spit something out.

“Stats! Statues? Stature? It's all about fitting your stature?” Kodya finishes, looking very confused.

Gyrus blinks. “Okay,” he says, not really believing Kodya, but not willing to disagree with him and risk upsetting Ragan.

Don gives a light chuckle. “It is important that clothing fit so it can perform functionally, regardless of style.” He pats Gyrus lightly on the arm, and Gyrus feels his hairs rise where he touched him.

“Wait a minute!” Tori shouts as she glares at Anan. “Where is Gyrus’?” 

“Yeah?” Sylvia adds. “Didn’t you get one for him?” 

Anan gives a nervous chuckle as he scratches the back of his neck. “Ahh, It got lost?”

“Oh it's ok!” Gyrus raises his hands. “I’m kinda short. I’m sure there just wasn’t anything in my size.”

“Here,” Kodya shoves a package into Gyrus’s hands. He blinks down at the badly wrapped blue package.

“Kodya,” Don sighs.

“What?” Kodya snaps as he crosses his arms and glares at the others. “It's only a jacket.”

Sure enough, Gyrus takes off the wrapping to reveal a leather jacket. He slips it over his shoulders, feeling the fluffy warm underside tickle his neck. “Thank you,” he smiles at Kodya, who looks away.

Ragan snorts. “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. This realm will lay you bare.” She lets out a menacing chuckle and Gyrus shutters at the sound. Tori takes a half step in front of him, and glares back.

“Button up Fancy Pants!” Ragan shoves a finger in Tori’s face. “And remember to keep your pet on a short stick,” she directs at Kodya. Then she takes off in a rush through one of the warp gates, calling out behind her, “Last one back is a shadow soldier!”

_A shadow soldier? Is that what Kodya was talking about in the meeting?_ Gyrus thinks. Don notices Gyrus’s frown and sighs. “Forgive her, she’s very on edge.”

Which once again answers absolutely nothing. Gyrus glances up at Kodya, to see if he can explain, but his attention is focused on the warpgate Ragan just ran through, brow furrowed.

“Argh, she picked that realm?” Anan complains as he runs a finger through his locks.

“Yep, and you know what that means,” Feather’s voice is dark.

“Pardon,” Tori moves towards them, pointing back towards the warpgate that Ragan just ran through, “but what exactly is in this realm that makes ye both so nervous?” 

“Oh nothing too bad,” Feather absentmindedly fiddles with the bracelets on their wrist. “Just your deepest fears and darkest secrets being exposed for all to see.”

“Really?” Gyrus jumps in, “but how? If this is another planet, how would it know what our deepest fears are, Unless,” He whirls on Kodya and Don, heart thumping in his chest. “Are we going to a planet with intelligent life? Real actual intelligent life?”

The closest thing Don’s missions had amounted to before, as far as he could remember, had all been primitive lifeforms. He stifled a giggle as his whole body vibrated with delight.

Feather stares at him as if he’s grown another head. “Not here,” they say slowly.

“But something must be scanning your brain, if it really does know your worst fears, how else could it possibly work?” he beams at Feather, who frowns slightly.

“Now, now, Gyrus,” Don wheels between them. “I know you’re excited, but try not to let it get in the way of the mission okay?”

“Yes sir!” Gyrus gives a sharp salute, forgetting in his excitement that Don is probably not trustworthy. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kodya facepalm.

“Let’s just go,” Feather says as they turn to walk towards the warpgate. Everyone files afterwards, except for Don.

Gyrus stops walking. “Captain?” he glances back at the man in the wheelchair. “Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Oh no,” Don pats the wheels of his chair with a grin. “I can’t go out on a field mission like this! No,” he shakes his head, “that would be far too much of a risk. But don’t worry,” he adds as he pulls something out of almost nowhere. “I’ve got a radio to keep watch, virtually of course.” He gives Gyrus a wink.

“Oh,” Gyrus says, grabbing his arm as he turns back to the warpgate. “If you say so.” he takes a deep breath, and then steps through the warpgate.

\--------------  
The otherside is not at all what Gyrus expects. It looks for all intents and purposes like a palace straight out of a horror or history movie. Dim, green candles cast an eerie glow on everything around them. Fine Victorian staircases lead up to three grand hallways, while in front, two smaller ones hold the words truth and dare. Perhaps the most off-putting is how completely normal it seems, if just slightly off. If aliens had made this, their culture had either developed freakishly similar to humanity’s, or they had already scanned their brains to project a familiar image.

He opens his mouth to comment on this fact, but thinks better of it when he sees their faces. They’re pale in the dim light, and wary, as if they expect a monster to jump out and get them. Even Kodya seems nervous. Gyrus supposes it makes sense considering they’ve apparently already met monsters out here. 

Ragan steps forward. “Enough basking in this eerie atmosphere. Time to get a move on.” She fiddles with the radio, scanner enhanced maybe? Gyrus isn’t sure. “There’s a trove of Mananas at the other end of these halls.”

_Mananas? Does she mean bananas? Bananas grow here,_ Gyrus thinks to himself, _despite there being no sunlight or any conceivable way for them to do so. Good to know._

_“Mananas aren’t quite the same…oh never mind,”_ a voice in his head says.

And the voices are back. Lovely.

_“I have a bad feeling about this,”_ the other one says.

“Truth or Dare?” Tori murmurs as she scratches the back of her head. “I take it that there is more to crossing these halls than you are letting on.”

_You don’t say,_ Gyrus thinks. It’s an obvious reference to a kids game, the one with the same name as this.

“Anyone ever told you you’re not as dumb as you look Fancy Pants?” Ragan sidles up to Tori, a smirk on her lips. 

_I wouldn’t call that a sign of intelligence, given it’s basically a given for anyone who lived through primary school,_ Gyrus wants to say, but holds his tongue. Ragan never gives any of them compliments. There’s no way this is a good thing. 

“You’re right,” Ragan continues, “each hallway has a test. One test for bravery, and the other for honesty.” She raises her hands to encircle Sylvia and Tori. “And guess what?” She pulls them both close to their outrage. “I’ve already decided we’re going to do this one together.” She angles Tori and Syliva towards the door with the word “Truth” on it.

_“I was right! This is really, really bad!”_ the voice in his head screams.

“Argh,” Anan rolls his eyes as Feather moves forward, hands in their pockets. “I guess that means we’re doing dare.”

“Hold it,” Tori shoves Ragan’s arm off her. “Why can we not all go together?” 

Anan rests a hand on his hip. “Ya got to finish both hallways in order to open the next part,” he sighs. “We learned that the hard way the first time.” He shutters. “I’m still traumatized from being stuck in the dare hall for so long!”

“It’ll be fine,” Kodya snaps. “Come on Kid,” he waves his hand, and Gyrus feels a bit like a child as he steps towards him.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ragan places a solid, heavy hand on Gyrus’ shoulder, completely stopping him in his tracks. “You’re coming with me.”

“No he isn’t,” Kodya crosses his arms. “He’s my responsibility.”

“Actually,” Don’s voice crackles over the radio, “I think it would be a good idea for all the rookies to go together.”

“I guess you’re just gonna have to lend your pet to me for the day.” Ragan’s grip tightens painfully and Gyrus winces.

Kodya crosses his arms. “Fine, but he comes back in one piece, right Don?”

“Affirmative,” Don says. Kodya shoots Ragan a smirk of his own.

“Well that’s too bad,” Anan says, before pulling Feather into a hug. “At least I’ll have you with me in their sweetie!” Feather shoves Anan off, and begins dragging him towards the door with “Dare” written over it.

Kodya glances back at Gyrus, then Tori. “Keep an eye on him,” he says to her. Ragan makes a shoo-ing motion with her hand, and Kodya reluctantly turns and follows Anan and feather, leaving the closet gang alone with Ragan.

No sooner has the other door slammed shut, Ragan begins to push Tori and Sylvia forward toward the other one. Gyrus hurries to keep up as Tori protests the speed of their departure. He just barely makes it inside before the door slams shut behind him. 

“Nice and cozy, eh fancy pants?” Ragan says as they find themselves pressed tight in a small room. It’s not unlike the closet they used for a base, albeit with a crazy lady instead of Kodya.

“Where are the hallways?” Tori exclaims, pushing herself into a corner. “This room is tiny.”

_We spend literally all our free time in a closet,_ Gyrus doesn’t point out.

Ragan reaches out to grab Tori’s hand, pulling them closer, and whispers into her ear. Something about getting used to being up close and personal. Gyrus was no expert in the subject, but he was pretty sure that counted as flirting. 

“Let go of my hand Ragan!” Tori snaps, as Ragan grins. Oh dear. He wants to help Tori, but she can handle herself and he fears if he says anything he’d probably make Ragan even angrier. He glanced at Sylvia pleadingly, but she just stood there.

The ground beneath them begins to shake as if an unseen hinge is moving after years of disuse. “We’re moving!” Tori shrieks as the tell tale feeling of vertigo hits and they all begin to fall downwards. Deep inside Gyrus, something screams.

_“AHH!”_ Screams a voice in his head.

_“Why are you freaking out so much?”_ the other voice asks.

_“What do you mean why?! We’re going to get interrogated! If they find out about us, they’ll kill us again, and then there will be three of us stuck in this command room. And do you want that?”_

_“You’re right. I can’t believe I”m saying that but you are. What are we going to do?”_

They came to a stop with a jolt, and the door opened. Gyrus was the first out the door, rubbing his head, and muttering, “Stupid alien elevators,” while privately he thinks, _“If you two don’t stay quiet for this so help me…”_

“You wanted a hallway Fancy Pants? Here we are!” Ragan cackled. 

“What in the world? Tori murmurs. Gyrus glances up to see a strange gridded floor spanning between them and a doorway. It seems empty. Disturbingly so. Gyrus suddenly wonders what happened to all the aliens who built this place.

“What are you waiting for?” Ragan reaches out a hand as if she intends to grab Gyrus, but he’s too far for her to reach, so she settles on Tori’s head instead. “Walk,” she commands as she pushes her forward.

Tori stumbles forward, the tile sinking beneath her weight. Gyrus has just enough time to think, _“It’s a trap!”_ before something happens.

_“Hahahah,”_ a voice laughs in his head.

_“Why are you laughing in a time like this?”_ the other one snaps.

_“I’m sorry, it’s just...It’s a trap, you know, like star wars?”_

_“Really? Now?”_

Blue light illuminates the room as a figure appears and begins to walk toward them. _An alien?_ Gyrus hopes. 

Besides him Tori gives a sharp gasp as the woman comes close to caress her cheek. “Victoria,” the alien murmurs.  
“My Queen,” Tori reaches up a hand but hesitates before touching the alien back, her eyes filling with tears. “But How? How is it that ye are here? And looking so full of health!”

_Oh I get it!_ Gyrus thinks. _The alien scanned Tori’s brain to pick the image of someone she trusts. Wait, that’s not a good thing at all._ “Tori!” he cries.

She ignores him in favor of making googly eyes at the face stealing alien. _Oh god, may I never fall in love if it makes me vulnerable to alien attacks._

_“There is so much in that statement about myself that I do not want to unpack,”_ one of the voices comments.

_“I do! Love is a beautiful thing! It gives you strength to stand up to weird aliens, not the other way around!”_

“Yes, anything, Your Grace,” Tori says and Gyrus realizes he’d missed some of the conversation. “It is so good to see you.”

“Tori!” he calls out again, but it’s too late, the alien already has Tori in her clutches, wrapped around her like a snake with its dinner. She grips Tori’s face in her gloved hands, no doubt hiding claws.

“Are ye hiding something, Victoria?” the alien murmurs, lips inches from Tori’s.

“What?” Tori pulls away, finally noticing something is wrong, “No!”

“No?” the alien pulls back, readjusting her clothes. “But Victoria, that is,” her skin turns green and hair red as a demonic smile crosses her lips, “a lie!”

Tori gives a gasp of shock, before she dissolves, reappearing at Gyrus’s side. “What happened?” she cries, looking at her hands in shock.

“You nearly got eaten by an alien face stealer!” Gyrus grabs her shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“A what?” Tori says.

“It projected an image you knew to make you trust it, then teleported you back here, alive and uneaten...,” Gyrus begins to pull back, realizing that maybe he’s jumped the gun a little. He glances at Sylvia, to see her watching completely unconcerned. Definitely jumped the gun.

“Well I never thought I’d see the day when you were the stupidest one in the room freak,” Ragan leans forward with a sharp grin on her lips. Gyrus draws back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “There’s no alien monster waiting to eat you here, only the honest truth. Every time you tell a lie, you’ll be sent back to the start.” She steps closer to Tori and Gyrus, eyes predatory. “Better start forking over those secrets.”

“Mind thy own secrets Ragan,” Tori points a finger directly at her chest. “I doubt that thy record is any cleaner.”

“Oh I’m not worried,” Ragan casually flips her braid over her shoulder. “I always tell the truth, even when people don’t want to hear it.” Then she reaches out to grab Gyrus by his collar. He struggles not to choke as her breath tickles his face. “But I don’t believe Kodya and Nephthys’ story for a second. He’s always been in your pocket, and Nephthys goes along to protect him. You’re not nearly as innocent as you appear, and I’m going to prove it.”

“Let him go,” Tori knocks Gyrus out of Ragan’s hand, he quickly bounds away from her. “They already questioned us, and we know nothing. We were cleared by Don and Anan weeks ago.”

_Wait, we were supposed to be questioned?_ Gyrus suddenly realizes he must have missed that. Unless she’s talking about her and Sylvia.

Ragan snorts, “Like Anan’s halfway reliable. He sees a pretty face and turners into a drivelling idiot.”

Gyrus felt slightly offended at this description of his superior. Anan wasn’t that bad. The image of Sylvia distracting him with big batting eyes crossed his mind. Ok, so maybe he was that bad, but still…

“This place doesn’t care how cute you are,” Ragan continues. “The truth will come out. Better watch your step.” She sneers as she turns around and takes off running as fast as lightning.

Gyrus feels his mouth drop open as literal speed mirages are left in her wake. He’d known about powers, but this is something else entirely. “Hurry up slowpokes,” Ragan calls from across the hall. “We don’t have all day.”

_“What are we going to do now? There’s no way we’ll find a way across safely!”_ the voice in his head whispers.

_“I have a plan,”_ the other hisses, _“help me finish blocking out the command room!”_

Tori snorts. “After all that bravado about telling the truth, it turns out she merely has memorized the path across.” She puts her hand on her hip. “Alas, she was too fast. If only I had seen which way she went!”

Gyrus blinks, the image of the blue lightning trapped beneath his eyelids. “I think I have an idea guys.” Both girls' attention snapped to him. “She left afterimages, if I’m careful, I think I can figure it out.” He steps out onto a tile, remembering the faint blue. It holds firm. “See?” He spreads his arms, turning back to Tori and Sylvia. “If we stick together we can totally do this!”

Tori smiles at him, but beside her Sylvia is missing. “What?” he cries, whirling around to see her already making her way fearlessly across the tiles. “Come back!” He reaches out a hand, stepping forward unconsciously to try and reach farther, but his foot lands on another tile.

“Damn it!” he cries as the tile glows blue.

_“Oh no! We aren’t finished yet! Quick, do something!”_

_“Cosplayers and crummy jobs!”_ a voice yells at him.

Tori appears before him, not the real Tori--who is still on the safe tile--but rather the one he remembers from his first day here. “I’m a champion of the queen, not some rookie squire forced to clean chamber pots for pompous lords!” she draws herself up, looking Gyrus straight in the eye. “Do you not believe me Gyrus?”

“Hurry up and answer her, I mean me!” Tori calls from behind. “We are losing Sylvia!”

Gyrus gulps, clutching his arm across his chest. “Look, Tori, you’re a wonderful person, but come on! I can’t believe you’re actually a knight!

“What?” Tori shrieks and Gyrus winced.

“It’s the 26th century, knights died out millenia ago!” Gyrus runs his fingers through his hair. “I know things have been weird here, really, really weird. But time travel? I just,” he looks down at his feet, “I’m afraid to believe you Tori. Because if you’re right, then the few remaining parts of the world that make sense, they all might just be lies.”

“Thank you for being honest,” the false Tori says as she disappears. 

Gyrus winces as he slowly turns to face the real Tori, hands on her hips. She sighs. “You do not need to believe me Gyrus. I will win your trust through proof and actions, as a good knight should.”

“Really?” Gyrus’ shoulders sag with relief. “Thanks Tori.”

“Tick tock! I’m still waiting over here!” Ragan calls.

Gyrus holds out his hand. “I think the next tile after this one is clear, take my hand and jump over this one!” Tori reaches out and grabs it firmly around the wrist, taking a large leap over the tile. Unfortunately she over shoots and misses the safe tile to land half on the next one. Which promptly starts to glow blue. Because of course it does.

Tori appears once again, this time dressed in a ratty dress with chains around her wrists. “Tori,” the other Tori says. “Ye were not always so virtuous. Have ye forgotten about this time in thy life?”

“What is with this place and you?” Gyrus groans.

Tori shoots him a look, then closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath. “Aye, I was on the wrong side of the law for a time. In those days, I was filled with loneliness and resentment.” Gyrus eyes the chains on the not Tori’s wrists, and wonders what she did to get them to use real iron instead of basic plastic handcuffs.

“But being caught for my crimes is what led me to her.” Tori continues. “My queen showed me kindness and opportunity to be a better person. Have I forgotten? Of Course not. I am not proud, but I am grateful for that chapter in my life was necessary to make me who I am today,”

“I thank ye for being honest,” the other Tori says as she disappears in a flash of blue light.

“Well, well,” Ragan mocks from her place by the side. “I guess Fancy Pants isn’t so fancy after all. Figures you were a criminal. Explains why you’re sympathizing with a freak like him.” She points at Gyrus.

Tori lifts her chin. “Some people just need a second chance.”

Gyrus gives her his best and most encouraging smile. Maybe he’s been worrying too much. When this is all over, he should tell her and Sylvia what he suspected of his past.

_“NO!”_ a voice in his mind cries. _“Do not think about that right now! That is the last thing you should think about right now!”_

“I think I can see Sylvia, Come on!” Tori gestures for him to follow. Gyrus jumps onto the good tile, and together they begin to edge towards their friend. 

They’re almost to Sylvia when Gyrus trips on thin air, falling off onto another tile. Blue surrounds him once more, as in the back of his mind a voice cries, _“Team Oli!”_

Oli appears before him, looming out of the steam. “You can’t tell Anan!” he cries. “He’ll try to stop me!”

Gyrus shoots a look at Sylvia, who’s stopped to look back at him and winces. “Any chance you could cover your ears Sylvia? This secret’s not really mine.”

“What’s the matter? Trying to seduce good old Oli to the dark side?” Ragan shouts. Sylvia doesn’t put her hands over her ears, face impassive as she watches Gyrus.

Gyrus sighs. “Oli, I won’t tell Anan you’re making chocolate as a surprise gift for Sylvia, or that I suggested it. I know I’m not supposed to get involved but you need a friend and she’s a really nice person. And I am very, very sorry that it came out in front of her. I’ll tell you as soon as we get back.”

“Phew, I’m glad you’re being honest.” the imposter Oli fades away.

“Oli’s got an interest in Sylvia too?” Tori frowns as she pulls him to his feet. “I should keep a closer eye on him.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like that!” Gyrus argues as he steps back onto a safe tile.

_“I’m pretty sure it is.”_

_“Shut up, you are not helping.”_

Two more safe tiles lead them to catch up to Sylvia. Tori reaches out to grab onto her shoulders with a great cry. “Finally! Let us stick together for the rest of the way!” She exclaims.

Gyrus grabs on to Tori’s shoulders and the three of them set out, like some strange version of the Conga. As they walked, Gyrus notices how Sylvia never makes the wrong step.

“Did you see the speed mirages too Sylvia?” he asks from behind Tori.

She shrugs in response.

“If ye did not see the mirages, then how are ye doing this?” Tori adds. “Ye have not stepped on a single trap!”  
Sylvia only gives another shrug in response. 

Tori steps forward, and the tile beneath her feet lights up in blue. “Shite!” She curses as Kodya appears before her.

“You need to keep quiet,” he looks around warily, “about everything in the realm you were from. Please, Gyrus needs you to do this. Otherwise-”

“Oh ho, ho!” Tori cuts him off. “I have words to say to you hunter! How could you? After everything! He followed you, trusted you! Loved you! And you used him and killed him! What kind of leader does that? Who does that? And now you go around, sharing a room and teaching him lessons, and acting like you didn’t just stab him in the last realm! It makes me so angry! But I can’t say anything, because he’s already started to care about you again!”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then the mirage Kodya says. “You know what? I’m just gonna go, since that was technically true.”

_“Did... did she just yell so much she made the truth thing go away?”_ a voice says in Gyrus’s mind.

“Well damn, that was not what I was expecting,” Ragan says with a raised brow. “But who cares. Hurry up and get over here.”  
Gyrus numbly lifts his hands to grab onto the back of Tori’s shoulders, careful to jump over the false tile, and they all continue on their way in silence.

Gyrus feels a thrill of relief as Sylvia takes the last step onto solid ground. Thank God for her good luck, they’d really made it safely. Tori steps on to the ground with an expression of smug success. “It seems we are more honest than you gave us credit for,” she sniffs.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Ragan replies. There’s a flash of lightning, and Gyrus feels something hard hit him in his chest, and he flies sideways into the air, landing on the ground with a painful thud. He blinks blue lights out of his eyes to see Kodya standing before him, eyes wide and scared. “You can’t tell anyone,” he practically begs. “You can’t let anyone know about it--they’ll reset you!”

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Ragan paced closer. “I knew you weren’t salvageable! Kodya was in your pocket the whole time!”

“You monster!” Tori gets up in her face, “You pushed him!”

“He’s a threat to everyone in the Room of Swords!” Ragan snaps back. “And we can finally prove it!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the radio, holding it high.

“Yes?” Don’s voice crackles over the radio.

“What’s going on?” Kodya’s voice comes from the entrance, standing beside Anan and another Sylvia. _Wait what?_

“There are two of you?” Tori gasps.

“Anan! Grab Kodya!” Ragan snaps. “I’m about to unmask a conspiracy!”

“What?” Anan glances at Kodya, who raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Kodya looks at the other Kodya and sighs. “You’re going to have to answer it kid, don’t hold back on my account.”

Tori shrieks something else, but Gyrus turns his attention back to the Kodya standing in front of him. “I’m sorry, but what was the question again?” he asks politely.

“I’m asking you not to tell anyone about it--they’ll reset you!” Kodya opened his eyes wide and pleading in a way that wasn’t half as convincing with the real Kodya standing right behind him.

Gyrus sighs. “When we were training, I grabbed something you dropped. It was a sword. After I got it I could suddenly levitate Sylvia. But you freaked out and told me I couldn’t use it because they might reset me.” 

“And how do you know what reset means?” Ragan asks suspiciously.

“I didn’t know what it was when you said it, but I could see it was bad from the expression in your eyes.” He raises his head to look Ragan directly in the eye. “Can I go now?”

“Like Helheim I’d let you do that!” Her lip curls. But it’s too late.

“Thanks for being honest, Kid,” the other Kodya says and then disappears. 

Gyrus pulls himself back to his feet and steps back onto solid ground. “Are you going to reset me?” he asks, feeling a strange kind of cockiness because he managed to cross with his worst secrets still kept safe.

“Why you little-” Ragan reaches out to grab him, but at that moment, the radio roars to life.

“Ragan,” Don says. “I heard all of it, please bring Gyrus, Kodya, and the others back immediately. I’d like to have a word with them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan: Feather Kodya is terrifying.   
> Feather:...  
> Anan: I didn't even take your advice! I just picked out a nice, super low level piece of gear for Gyrus, you know, so he doesn't feel left out! But as soon as Kodya sensed even the slightest threat to his chances with Gyrus, he sabotaged me! Stole the armor right out of my hands and made me look like a fool in front of Sylvie!   
> Feather: Flashbacks to Anan forgetting to grab the third package, and Kodya picking it up and dusting it off with a sigh.  
> Feather:...  
> Feather: Yeah he's pretty evil.  
> Anan: I know! I was lucky to get out with my life!


	11. Quarantine, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gyrus looks for answers as he waits out his punishment.

Gyrus sighs as he sinks back into his bed. Don’s meeting with Kodya and himself still runs through his mind. From the way Ragan had sneered and Kodya had been so tense, he’d expected it to go badly, but Don was nothing if not calm and personable. He’d simply asked Gyrus to give more detail on the incident, which Gyrus had provided, leaving out any mention of the conversation Kodya had with the closet gang afterwards. Instead he’d focused on how cool it was to make people fly, and how scared it made Kodya so he thought better of using it. 

Don had nodded along, a slight frown on his lips, but otherwise the picture of calm. Gyrus could almost believe that there was nothing to fear, that he could tell this man everything, even the closet gang and his own discoveries about his sickness, but the fact that Kodya held back a flinch every time the man moved made Gyrus wary. The way Kodya feared him, combined with the strange intensity in Don’s gaze, kept Gyrus’ mouth shut.

Finally Don had folded his hands in his lap with a sigh. “Gyrus, I’m afraid I’m going to have to quarantine you for now, as we ensure that this change in power has not had any adverse effects.”

“What?” Gyrus cried out, not wanting to return to isolation. At his side Kodya half rose from his chair, mouth already open. A look from Don made him sit back down, but the defiance didn’t leave his poker straight back. 

“It was my fault,” Kodya had insisted. “I messed up, I told him not to say anything. The consequences should be on me.” 

Don sighed. “That’s not how this works Kodya, and you know it,” he said with a sad shake of his head. He raised his eyes to meet Kodya’s. “As for your punishment, that we should discuss in private.”

Kodya grit his teeth as Don said, “Ragan, Anan, escort Gyrus back to his room.”

Ragan gave a snort as her strong hand closed on the back of Gyrus’ neck. “Come along freak,” she said. “Back into your cage.”

Kodya cast a helpless glance over his shoulder at Gyrus, eyes wide. Gyrus couldn’t tell if that look was supposed to convey “I’m sorry,” or “Please be careful,” it was probably a bit of both. He would ask when Kodya came back from his talk with Don.

Gyrus falls back on the big, empty bed. How long does it take to talk to one person anyways? Or are they going to punish him right away, and Gyrus won’t hear about it until afterward? It’s going to be a long couple of hours until he returns in that case, which means Gyrus is stuck alone in his room, again.

Lovely. He wonders if this is supposed to be his punishment for not going to Don immediately. Stuck in quarantine all over again. Wait a minute, quarantine is supposed to be for medical precautions. Gyrus’s lips tug into a frown. Doesn’t using it as a punishment take away from the effect when it's actually important? It’s not like he’s used his power at all in the last few days, and he’d been completely fine! 

Unless it doesn’t work like that. Maybe not using it is just a passive carrier, and to really know if he’s sick or not, he’d have to actively use it. He sits up, reaching out a hand to try and make his pillow float into the air.

Or using it could increase the sickness, he stops, pulling back his hand and looking down. What if it makes it a hundred times worse…? He wishes he has some way of checking, a guide or medical journal or…

He straightens up, nearly tumbling from the bed. The journal! He could consult his journal! See if it has any information about his sickness!

_“Or, and hear me out on this one, you do not go looking through it for truth and realize it was written by a man with only half the puzzle just as confused as you were?”_ a voice in his head whispers.

_“That...has got to be the most honest I’ve ever heard you. Are you ok?”_

_“No! Don took Kodya! We nearly got exposed! And now he thinks he can trust my journal to know a cure when he could just ask me!”_

Gyrus ignores them in favor of yanking at the drawer. It doesn’t open, because of course it doesn’t. It’s locked. Gyrus grits his teeth and concentrates. A few seconds later, it glows green. Gyrus gives a cry of delight and tries to pull the drawer open, only for the color to stop as soon as he makes an exclamation, causing it to fade before he can get it open. Because of course it does.

He tries again, and the drawer swings open. Perfect! He pulls out the journal, careful as he moves it so as not to cause the dagger in the front to fall out, and opens it to a random page in the middle. Inside is...instructions to make a coffee machine. Damaged instructions to make a coffee machine, as several pages have been torn out.

_Someone must have opened it, and tried to fix the coffee machine back before Oli brought it to me,_ Gyrus thinks. _Well, if that doesn’t sum up the dangers of coffee addiction, I don’t know what does._ He flips to the next page.

This page holds a design for a human arm. Gyrus winces. Does that mean the sickness was going to make him lose an arm?

_“You lost an arm?”_ a voice in his head shrieks. _“All those people killed, and you only had one arm?”_

_“What? No! I found the arm fully intact in the snake realm ages ago! I never wore it! Why would I wear it?”_

Gyrus flips through the rest of the journal, inventions, diagrams, all very practical for someone who has to build a ship from the ground up, but not any that seem to imply a mind that’s seriously damaged. If anything, he seems to be a completely normal engineer. 

Except, not quite. Sometimes on the paper there would be parts that are clearly erased words, like a coded message. He squints, trying to make out the faint remains of the pencil. He can make out the letters K, what looks like a plus sign, G, and an unidentifiable squiggle like a sideways U with one end cut short. 

He isn’t certain what K + G means but it’s probably some secret code. Maybe they represent elements in the periodic table? But there isn’t a G on the periodic table, unless the weird squiggle is supposed to be an A, but that doesn’t make any sense, it would sooner be a heart than an a.

_“What does the code mean?”_ a voice in his head asks.

_“If I ever see Kodya again, I’m going to hug him and apologize for all I put him through,”_ the other says. 

_“So it's not a code?”_ the first voice says reluctantly.

A deep groan echoes in response.

Gyrus shuts the book with a snap and shoves it back in the drawer. The notes and diagrams tell him nothing about his current situation, and to make matters worse, the notes are making the voices active once again. _“Shut up!”_ he thinks loudly.

_“Is that any way to talk to two people you just saved your hide?”_ a voice speaks up. _“Without us, you’d be spilling all your secrets to Ragan, and I guarantee you, we wouldn’t be getting off with a simple quarantine!”_

_“Face it, you need us,”_ the other voice adds.

_“The only thing I need is for you to shut up!”_ Gyrus hisses, then blinks. “Did I say that out loud...?” The room stands silent around him. Gyrus shakes his head. “I’m going crazy with all this isolation.” Or always was. A voice whispers in his mind.

The door opens behind him with a low whirl, and he spins around with a start. “Kodya!” he cries, then stops.

“Just me I’m afraid,” Oli says as he closes the door behind him. “Looks like you got yourself put back in quarantine again.” He gives Gyrus a half smile. 

“I did,” Gyrus nods. “But I didn’t do anything! I just touched a sword Kodya dropped and started glowing green! I don’t understand why that means I have to get locked up!”

Oli gives a slight frown as he sits criss-cross on the floor. “Well, I guess it doesn’t seem all that impressive right now, but if you got better at it, it would be really scary.”

“I guess,” Gyrus sits down with a sigh, a part of him wondering darkly if he’d used his powers in scary ways when he’d gotten sick. “But there have got to be stranger and scarier ones out there than picking people up and opening tricky locks,” he added hopefully. Surely there had been someone to stop him.

Sobbing echoes in the back of his mind. 

Oli blinked. “They told you about breaking points?” His voice is wary.

“What’s a breaking point?” Gyrus asks, because he’d heard of weird powers and sickness, but last he’d checked he wasn’t about to break. Oli’s frown deepens and Gyrus realizes that he isn’t supposed to know other people have powers. He adds hastily, “I just kinda picked up that everyone had their own powers because I saw Ragan use her speed and I sorta, put stuff together based on how everyone acted?” He rubs the back of his head, eyeing Oli and hoping he buys it.

Oli gives a nod. “Yeah, she’s not exactly subtle.” Gyrus holds in a sigh of relief as Oli continues. “It’s a pretty cool power though, way better suited for missions than mine.”

“Oh?” Gyrus perkes up, full attention to Oli. Maybe he could crack one of the Closet Gang’s main mysteries right here and now. “And what is your power Oli?”  
In response, Oli pulls out a mandu and makes a fist over it. When he opens his hands, there are two mandu sitting in its place. 

“What?” Gyrus gasps as he leans forward to stare at the duplicates. “You have an amazing power!” the image of Oli’s mysterious pouch with the perfect mechanical pieces crosses his mind. “You could build anything you want!” he points out.

Oli gives a small chuckle. “I guess,” he said as he glanced away, a faint blush of red on his cheeks. “I usually just use it for cooking.” He brightens as he meets Gyrus’s eyes. “But I'm pretty proud of it! I’ve even been able to recreate ingredients and dishes from home with some trial and error! Speaking of which,” he put the mandu down in favor of reaching for something else in the bag. “I finally figured out how to make chocolate! Do you want to taste test it for me?” Gyrus grins, reaching out to pluck the familiar brown candy and places it in his mouth. He closes his eyes as it melts in his mouth. Oh how he’d missed this taste, and hadn’t even realized it. There was no way Sylvia wouldn’t love it.

Sylvia! His eyes snap open. “Oh no!”

“Is something wrong with the chocolate?” Oli leans forward, face a mask of worry.

“No, no,” Gyrus shakes his head, guilt seeping into his heart. “It's something I did. I’m so sorry Oli! When I was in the alien’s layer it demanded I tell it about how you’re making the chocolate for Sylvia, and she was right there! Or at least, I thought she was,” Gyrus frowns as Oli pales. “It looked like her, but another one showed up next to Anan and Kodya, so maybe it wasn’t?” He looks down at his toes. “Either way I’m sorry.”

Oli is silent for a long minute. Finally he says. “There were two Sylvias?”

Gyrus nods rapidly.

Oli places a hand on his chin. “And you went with Feather. Did you see them when there were two Sylvias?”

“No…” Gyrus frowns as he tries to remember the details of that hectic encounter. “I don’t think so.”

Oli gives a decisive nod. “Then you didn’t spill it to Sylvia, you spilled it to Feather. Which is still pretty bad for us,” Oli adds. “Since their pretty much guaranteed to be on Team Anan, but not as bad as actually telling Sylvia.” His gaze softens as he glances at Gyrus. “It’s fine, the truth thing is just pushy like that when it wants answers.”

Gyrus gives him a slight smile. “Thanks.” They both smile awkwardly, until Oli’s eyes open wide. “Oh no! If this happened in the east realm, that means that Feather’s had half a day to tell Anan! We’re running on a time limit!”

“You’re chocolate’s amazing, so you could probably just give it to her now,” Gyrus points out, but Oli shakes his head.

“Uhuh, I can’t just give her practice chocolate! It's gotta look perfect for Sylvia too!”

“It's chocolate,” Gyrus points out. “No one cares how it looks, they care about how it tastes, and the time and effort you put in to make it for them.”

Oli bites his lip, and Gyrus gets the feeling he doesn’t quite believe him. He takes a bite of the mandu to fill the empty silence and a thought crosses his mind. “Is Kodya going to eat in the cafeteria or should I save half of this for him?”

Oli blinks. “Kodya’s not coming here.”

“What?” Gyrus sits up straight. “But this is his room! They can’t kick him out of his own room!”

Oli shifts uncomfortably. “He hid your powers from Don, that’s a big deal. Don sentenced him to cleaning, and he can’t see you for the whole time you’re in this quarantine, just in case.”

“Oh,” the mandu in his mouth suddenly tastes like ash. “Do they think he’s sick too?”

“Sick?” Oli asks. 

“Like me,” Gyrus gestures to himself. 

“Oh,” Oli shakes his head. “No. Just a little blind. But don’t worry. It’s Kodya. He brought you back without, -” Oli coughs suddenly into his hand, “-I mean, he’s got his priorities straight. If Don really thought he was hiding something important, he wouldn’t have let him get off so lightly.”

Lightly? Exile from his own room and demotion to doing chores for who knows how long was light? Gyrus stuck in isolation for only being on the edges was light? If this was light, Gyrus is beginning to understand why Kodya is so paranoid all the time. 

“Oli!” an unfamiliar voice calls from beyond the door. “What are you doing in there? Dinner’s supposed to start!”

“I’ve got to go,” Oli jumps to his feet. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell Kodya you were asking after him.” He shot Gyrus a grin that seemed far too knowing, but for what Gyrus was not sure. “Wish me luck on the chocolate!” Oli gives Gyrus a final wave as he closes the door.

“Good luck!” Gyrus cries as the door slams shut, leaving him alone, again.

\---------------------

The belly of the ship is dark and cold, Gyrus shivers, pulling his arms tighter around his chest. He hates being down here alone, even if working as an engineer practically guarantees he’ll have to do so on a semi-regular basis. Still, did the light have to be this dim? The dim red glow is barely enough to see by, let alone take in the precise details necessary to start the repairs.  
Although precise details might not be too important in this case, he notes as he takes in the increasing damage the closer he gets to the core. Panels of ceiling had been ripped off or were missing, exposing the pipes and cooling systems underneath like vessels of blood under the skin. Severed cooling vents drape themselves around like giant worms crawling across a mole’s tunnel. It looks like a wreck, and Gyrus is beginning to wonder why they had only sent one engineer down here. There was no way he could do this on his own. 

They had sent him hadn’t they? Surely someone must have. Why else would he be here?

He moved to the engine. The great door sealed it in, two red portholes glowing red as a fire. He reached for the handle, but hesitated. How silly of him. He had to look in first as protocol dictated. It may not be safe to open, especially by himself. 

He peaks through the top porthole. Where the engine should have been was a large, empty room, far too large to believably fit in the small compartment he knew the engine room was. A flicker of movement catches his eye. He leans forward, trying to make it out.  
One of the shadows peels off the edge, flying forward, but no matter how close it got, he could not make out any physical features. It stops directly in front of the porthole, and Gyrus realizes with dread that he can’t make out any features because it doesn’t have any. It was a living shadow, with only two red slits for eyes and the hilt of a sword stuck in its chest. It let out a “Screesh!” as a part of the blackness opens up to reveal a mouth of red fangs.

“Aaaah!” Gyrus jolts awake, knocking the blankets from his legs. He looks back and forth, scanning the darkness for the shadow creature. He can’t see it, but that did not reassure him. There were plenty of places for one to hide in the shadows of his room. He wishes Kodya were here, sleeping on the upstairs mattress. Then he wouldn’t have to flinch every time the room creaks in a way that doesn’t sound normal. He could just blame it on Kodya’s steady breathing.

He huddles close to himself, pulling his knees up and pushing his back firmly into the headboard. Tears begin welling in his eyes and he ducks his head down into his knees as the sensations of loneliness and fear well up inside him. 

A soft touch to his shoulder made him flinch and look up. It was Kodya, expression concerned, reaching out with a hand containing a strange blue symbol.

“Kodya?” Gyrus says. “But how?” Oli had said he had been banned from their room. Kodya’s hand encloses around Gyrus’s as the glowing continues and oh. Gyrus remembers this power, as the soothing comfort filters through his body. Gyrus feels his muscles relax as he slowly begins to nod off. He had a feeling he should probably be worried. There is no way Kodya could really be here, but he just feels so relaxed.

“You went into the shadow room?” A voice cried out. Gyrus blinks, and the him in the black cloak stands where Kodya had been. “What were you thinking? You nearly let them out! Do you have any idea what you nearly did?”

“He’s right, those things are really dangerous!” The one in yellow adds, then glances sharply at the black cloaked one. “Although you should probably not judge, considering you’re the reason we have them in us in the first place.”

“I thought I said I wasn’t going to listen to you,” Gyrus crosses his arms. 

The two Gyri exchange glances. “So you go to the very thing that endangered us in the first place?” the one in black says. 

“If you don’t believe us that those things are dangerous, ask Tori, Syliva, Kodya, or anyone. They’ll all tell you the same. Shadows are dangerous!” The yellow one cries, gesturing to the open air. 

The other Gyrus made a so-so gesture with his hand. “They’re dangerous to you, but if you trained hard enough you could handle them.”

“Really?” The yellow Gyrus throws up his hands. “Really! Right now? You’re making a sales pitch right now?” 

“I’m only offering information on how to stand up to them,” the other Gyrus crosses his arms.

Gyrus scowls. “I was having a good dream. Soothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to it.” He shuts his eyes and reaches out a hand to the air. Nothing happens.

“That wasn’t a dream,” the black cloaked Gyrus said, sounding exasperated. “That was my memory rising to the surface. If you’d like to watch it through, you just have to ask.”

For a second, Gyrus hesitates. Because if these strange blue people he saw sometimes were only memories, wouldn’t it be useful to see the context for the memories? Being soothed to sleep seems harmless enough. He already knew how that would go. But no. He isn’t going to give them an inch. He sets his jaw and rolls back over.

_“Well that didn’t work,”_ one voice says, sounding tired.

_“You’re the one who kept cutting me off!”_

_“You were trying to tempt him to the dark side!”_

Gyrus places his hands over his ears and groans.  
\-----------------  
The next five days feel like forever. Oli is consistent on bringing him food, and smuggling him parts to build some of the stuff in his journal. All practical of course. He also tells him about the others. Apparently Kodya and Tori are giving Anan a headache with how often they bicker. Sylvia often tries to make them stop, a fact Anan appreciates, but Oli was slightly bitter about, as he was beginning to suspect that Tori purposely starts fights with Kodya when Oli is near to prevent him from giving the chocolate to Sylvia.

Gyrus assures him this was probably not the case, while silently wondering if Tori’s own hostility to Anan was translating to Oli too. He’d have to set her straight if that were the case. Oli just wants a friend. He is certain of it.

The voices in his head disagree, but when did he ever listen to them?

But soon Oli would have to leave and Gyrus would be all alone again, with only the voices and his own insatiable curiosity nagging him to try out his powers, just a bit. If he had something to do the urge would dull, but when that job was done the desire to explore his powers would come back.

But it wasn’t until today that his resolve broke. The deep, universal desire to fly finally bursting forward and making him try to activate his powers. 

_So far,_ he thinks as he stands surrounded by a mess of fallen or broken objects, _I’ve been able to deduce size doesn’t matter, but I can’t seem to lift myself._ But as every scientist knows, set back is merely a call for invention, hence why this morning found Gyrus atop the banister on Kodya’s mattress. 

He climbs out onto the mattress, heart in his throat. He’d cleared the lower floor, so there was no way he’d land on anything. And he had a mattress to catch him. There was no way this could end badly. He swallows, closes his eyes, and reaches for his power as he shoves the mattress off into the open air.

For four, glorious seconds, it was actually working. The mattress hovers in the air, glowing green as Gyrus’s power surrounds it. Gyrus has just enough time to think, “Hey! I did it!” before he feels a sharp pain in his eyes. He winces, raising a hand to wipe away, blood? Only to feel the swooping sensation of falling in his gut. 

He lands with a crash on the floor, the mattress beneath him softening his fall, just as he knew it would. 

“Kid?!” A very familiar voice cries out. 

Gyrus blinks his stinging eyes to see Kodya hovering over him, one hand tugging him upright by the wrist and the other touching his cheek below his eye, expression full of concern. “What were you doing?” he asks.

Gyrus grins, as he pulls Kodya into a loose hug. “I’m so glad to see you!” he says into his shoulder. Kodya tenses in Gyrus’s arms, a hand awkwardly patting Gyrus’s back. When Gyrus pulls away, he notices Kodya’s face is oddly red. Perhaps he’d run over too quickly? Or was it that he just wasn’t used to others in his physical space? It didn’t matter. “Did you see me flying?” he asks instead.  
Kodya frowns, catching Gyrus’s face properly and wiping away some blood. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “You’ll burn through lifeforce.”

Gyrus nods, feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of his own blood. So he was right the first time about the dangers of using his power. Good to know. Still, Ragan, Kodya, Oli, they all used their powers so frivolously, he’d thought it would be fine if he did the same. 

Wait a minute, his eyes snap back to Kodya, he looks normal, feels real, but those visions had always appeared real too. “How are you here Kodya?” he asks cautiously.

“Because his punishment is officially over,” Don’s voice came across the room. Kodya’s shoulders stiffen, and Gyrus’s head snaps up to see Don behind Kodya, sitting at the entrance like a king on a throne. “You are now free to leave quarantine Gyrus, and join the others cleaning with Anan.”

“Thank you sir,” Gyrus says as he slowly pulls himself up to his feet. Beside him Kodya rises too, a protective wall of muscle at his back. 

“Of course, mi amigo,” Don says as he smiles at Gyrus. “But in the future, lets try not to keep anything important hidden, in the end keeping it to yourself always causes more problems for others, isn’t that right Kodya?”

Kodya gave a stiff nod, and Don’s smile turned as bright as the sun. “Excellente!” he said. “Now let's see if we can’t find Anan and return to him his staff member shall we?” So saying he wheeled his wheelchair around, and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan: Feather you've got to help me! I thought having to work with Gyrus was bad, but they're worse than anything I could possibly imagine!   
> (sound of Kodya and Tori fighting in the background)  
> Anan (flinches away): they're getting closer! Please Feather I'm begging you, make them stop!  
> (Sylvia trys to interfere, but gets blasted back by the sheer force of their arguing)  
> Anan: Sylvie! No!!!!!  
> Feather: ...  
> Feather (sighs and snaps fingers)  
> Anan: I can't hear them! Its gone! Feather you angel you've done it again! (Hugs them and wanders between Kodya and Tori, unable to hear them as they still fight around him) Ahh this, this is peace.  
> Feather: you know its only temporary right?  
> Anan: what? (gets blasted by the force of Kodya and Tori's arguing)


	12. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a party fit for a Queen's champion

“Gyrus!” Tori and Sylvia exclaim as they run towards Gyrus. 

“Guys!” Gyrus says as he catches them both in a loose hug. “I’m so glad to see you!” 

“We have been so worried,” Tori pinches his cheek, “but ye look to be in good health.” Sylvia gives his waist a squeeze of agreement. Even Anan seems somewhat pleased to see him, leaning casually against the bathroom stall.

“I’m fine,” Gyrus laughs. “It’s just a little lonely.” Tori frowns, and her eyes slide to glare over Gyrus’s shoulder. He glances back to see Kodya standing behind Don, arms crossed. He frowns right back, then turns to Don.

“Does this mean I can return to training?” he asks.

Don sighs. “In a little while. Now he has touched a sword, we really can’t afford to put off a mission much longer.” Kodya’s face lights up before Don quickly adds, “But with...supervision.”

“Understood,” Kodya’s expression suddenly becomes stone.

“It is most certainly not!” Tori snaps. “Gyrus has done nothing! It was Kodya who was in error. Why should he continue to be punished?”

Don raised a hand. “This is simply a precaution, a way of ensuring loyalty.” He smiles politely, but it does not quite reach his eyes. “As I’ve told you before Tori, Sylvia,” he turns to each of the girls to look them in the eyes, “Gyrus requires certain restrictions for his own safety.”

Tori opens her mouth again, but Sylvia cuts her off. “We understand,” she says, giving her most innocent smile. “Have a good day Don.”

“Of course,” Don’s smile seems more genuine as he looks at Sylvia. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there are matters to which I have to attend.” Saying so, he turns on his wheelchair and wheels away.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Tori rounds on Kodya. “And what exactly are you doing here? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

Kodya opens his mouth but Anan steps up. “Oh no! Not again! I have not had to put up with your bickering for five days straight to listen to more of it. Gyrus, Tori, Sylvia get to work,” he waves a hand as Sylvia grabs Tori bodily to drag her away, then points it directly at Kodya’s chest. “You are no longer employed here, so as of right now, I declare this bathroom a Kodya and Tori fight freezone. So please, respect the bro code and my last ounce of sanity, and please just leave. You can see Gyrus tonight!”

For a second all is silent. Gyrus watches with baited breath as a bead of sweat rolls down Anan’s forehead. He briefly wonders if Kodya is going to get angry again, like he did in the tombs. But instead his shoulders sag. “Fine,” he says as he turns on his heel and walks out.

Anan stares after him, mouth slightly agape. Then he straightens his shoulders. “Well,” he says as he turns back towards the three of them. “We’ve got to get back to work.”

Gyrus turns to pick up a toilet plunger, but Anan stops him. “Wait a second. Since you know what breaking points are now, we don’t need half of this.”

Gyrus blinks. There was that word again. Breaking point. Gyrus wonders what it means. “How do you figure?” he asks, trying to disguise how little he knows.  
Anan grins at him, and promptly cuts his arm in half, turning his hand and forearm into water. 

“What the hell?” Gyrus jumps into the air, feeling shock flood through his system. “Your arm!”

“Isn’t it cool?” Sylvia laughs. Anan promptly starts moving the water into patterns and shapes, flowing it around the air. Tori, however, pushes past him sharply, causing it to fall back into the toilet. 

“That’s enough showing off,” she sniffs as she gets between Anan and Sylvia. “Some of us do not have fancy powers for such trivial short cuts.”

“Hey now,” Anan holds out his hands placently. “You’ll class eventually. You’ve just got to give it time.”

“So you guys have powers too?” Gyrus asks, for Anan’s benefit, and so it doesn’t get back to Don how much of his information has come from Kodya and Oli. 

In response, Sylvia picks Gyrus up with one arm and holds him above her head. Gyrus squirms a bit at first, but eventually relaxes, enjoying the view. It reminds him a bit of his room, and the flying power he’d been trying to use. Speaking of which. He stretches out a hand towards Tori, trying to pull her into the air. A green energy fizzles around her briefly, but then the searing pain is back behind his eyes, and he lets go with a cry of pain. 

“Gyrus!” Sylvia quickly lowers him to the ground, gripping his waist as he clutches onto his face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Tori crowds close. 

“I don’t know! I just started using my powers and started bleeding! Is that normal?” He looks up at the concerned faces of Tori, Anan, and Sylvia.

Anan frowns. “You’re probably running on lifeforce. Everyone has a set amount of energy reserves of mana, and since you’ve only just got your powers, it's going to be a lot lower than even Tori and Sylvia. Once that runs out, you start bleeding.”

“How do I fix it?” Gyrus winces. 

“Nephthys, could help,” Tori points out. “She’s helped before.”

“Or Manana muffins!” Sylvia adds. “We found some in the last realm!”

“All those could work,” Anan says, “but really, all Gyrus needs is to rest a minute, not use his powers too much, and pay attention in training, whenever Kodya starts that up again. “He’s Gyrus,” he shrugs. “He’ll be fine.”

“He will most certainly not be!” Tori snaps. Gyrus looks at the dried blood on his fingers. 

“Hey! I think the bleeding has stopped!” he says.

“See?” Anan gestures to Gyrus. “Completely fine. But if you’re really worried, we’ll take him to Nephthys before dinner.”

Sylvia’s hands tighten on Gyrus, but he pushes himself to his feet. “I’m fine, really guys,” he said.

“You’re sure?” Tori places a hand on his cheek.

“Really,” Gyrus smiles his most reassuring smile as he gently removes Sylvia’s arms.

“Told you,” Anan crosses his arms and eyes Sylvia who was still standing close to Gyrus. Gyrus gets the impression he’s trying not to pout.

“Good!” Tori punches Gyrus lightly in the shoulder. “Then be careful in the future. Ye nearly shaved a year off my life, and I’ve only got 21 of them to spare.”

“You’re 22?” Gyrus asks, running a hand casually through his hair. Next to him Sylvia begins counting on her fingers.

“Almost,” Tori nods, “I’ll be 22 in less than a week.”

Gyrus freezes. “Wait what?”

\-----------------------  
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I summoned you here,” Gyrus says as he rubs his hands together from his seat on the closed toilet. Sylvia crouches beside him on the ground, arms resting on her knees. Gyrus absently reaches out to stroke her fluffy hair as he stares down his guests. Nephthys, Anan, Oli, and Kodya all stare blankly back. 

“I thought Sylvie wanted to talk to me?” Anan pouts. “She said it was important.”

“Me too,” Oli adds, shoulders drooping.

“It is, it is,” Gyrus reassures them as Sylvia gives them a wicked grin. “But I’m afraid she was only doing so on my orders.” All four tense. 

“Then why are we here?” Kodya asks, his hand is raised slightly as if prepared to reach out and grab Gyrus. Beside Gyrus Sylvia shifts, so that her body would block any forward movement he would make.

“You have been summoned for a super secret operation.” Gyrus places his hands together underneath his lips in a perfect imitation of Don. “Which requires your unique talents.”

“And if we refuse?” Oli asks, nervously taking half a step back. 

Gyrus frowns, “I can’t imagine why you’d do that.” Oli gulps. Nephthys’ brow furrows.

“Then why don’t you out and tell us what you want from us?” she says, her eyebrows are knit together with partial annoyance and curiosity. Kodya’s eyes go wide and he takes a half step towards her, body shifting to try and hide her from view. Sylvia tenses at the movement, but Gyrus places a comforting hand on her head to calm her. 

“The operation is simple,” Gyrus pauses for dramatic effect, smiling, and watches as every member of the group grows slightly paler. 

“We are going to throw Tori a birthday party.”

All four of the summoned team stare at him, mouths hanging open. Finally Anan breaks the silence by shouting, “That’s it?!” Before clamping his hands over his mouth.

“Well yeah,” Gyrus frowns while looking at each one of them, “what did you think I’d summoned you here for?”

“Oh thank Zeus,” Oli’s knees give way and he collapses on the ground. Anan quickly follows suit, and even Kodya and Nephthys breathe a sigh of relief. Gyrus watches their reaction and bites his lip, it seems too extreme for four commanding officers to find their janitors play-acting in a bathroom, regardless of everything.   
“I think my life flashed before my eyes,” Anan says as he leans against the stall wall.

“For a second there, I thought my intuition had failed,” Nephthys adds with a little laugh as she mops her brow.

“Never do that again kid,” Kodya says as he leans against the other wall, though with a slight grin.

Gyrus frowns. “I was trying to cosplay. It's a big part of this party. Did I do it wrong?” He glances worriedly at Sylvia to see if she’s noticed their audience’s over the top reaction, but she only shrugs, looking equally bewildered. He files it away to analyze later.

_“And you call me dramatic,”_ a voice whispers in Gyrus’ ear.

_“That’s it, I’m disowning both of you,”_ the other voice replies.

_“Oh you know you’re just as capable,”_ the first voice snips back.

“Who were you even trying to be?” Anan exclaims as he struggles to right himself and fails.

Gyrus and Sylvia share another look. “I’m Don,” Gyrus says. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“And I’m Ragan!” Sylvia pipes up. “See?” she gives her best scowl.

“That was meant to be Don?” Oli gapes like a fish. “I thought you had turned into Minos and had come to sacrifice us to the minotaur!”

_“Actually it was pretty on the nose,”_ a voice in his head whispers.

_“Just what happened between you too?”_ the other says.

“Kid, nearly scaring Oli to death is not going to make us more willing to help with your party,” Kodya says, in a voice carefully monotone, as if he’s reading from a script.

“No please!” Gyrus says, at the same time as Sylvia says,

“We could really use your help!”

Kodya frowns as Sylvia tips her head back, eyes opening wide as they could go. Anan and Oli waver. Gyrus takes his cues from her and mimics her position, trying to look as innocent as possible. Kodya crosses his arms.

“Oh, you two are adorable!” Nephthys smiles. “I love parties, and I have a good feeling about this, so I’m all for it!”

“Me too!” Oli reluctantly agrees, then blushes. “Well, not parties so much, but I do think it’ll be fun!”

“Since you asked Sylvie, I’ll do it for you,” Anan sighs.

Gyrus and Sylvia’s attention turn to the one person in the room who has yet to agree. “This is really stupid,” Kodya scowls. Sylvia sticks out her lower lip. Kodya’s expression doesn’t change. Gyrus sticks out his lower lip, mimicking Sylvia. Kodya’s eyebrows draw closer together, like he’s trying to resist. 

“Oh come on Kody!” Nephthys joins in. “This will help you relax!”

Kodya glances at her, then his eyes flicker briefly to Gyrus’. Gyrus leans forward, hands linked and pleading. Kodya quickly looks away, closing his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales it through his mouth. “Fine,” he facepalms. “But if she starts a fight, I’m out,” he says, pointing at Gyrus.

“Yes!” he punches a fist into the air. Sylvia lets out a cry of joy and pulls Gyrus into a hug. Laughing, he hugs her back. 

“Ehem,” Kodya coughs into his fist. “Shouldn’t we get to planning this thing?”

“Right, right,” Gyrus pulls away from Sylvia.

“Okay. First step is to figure out what exactly cosplay is. It’s like super old, so it's not like any of us remember it. But someone mentioned they knew about it in the crowd on our first day of training. So I need one of you to scout them out, find out everything they can, and then bring the knowledge back to us.”

“I can do that!” Nephthys smiles. “Yumeji should be easy to persuade.” 

“Excellent! Gyrus clapped his hands. “Now Oli…”

“You want me to cook right?” Oli says with a slight grimace. 

Gyrus shakes his head. “No. Your power is far too useful to waste on cooking. No.” He grins at Oli. “You are going to help me make the decorations, so that it really looks like something a cosplayer would like!”

Oli nods, a smile tugging on his lips. “I can do that,” he says, but frowns. “But wait, who’s cooking?”

“Well,” Gyrus turns to Anan, who’s still trying to stand. “Tori really liked cooking your grandma’s cookies with you. We figured you could handle the dessert.”

“Really?” Anan pulls himself up, face split in a wide grin. “Yes! I love making grandma’s cookies!”

“But who’s making the rest of the meal?” Oli presses.

“Kodya is!” Sylvia says, eyes wide and sparkling. “He’s a great cook!”

A taste filled Gyrus’ mouth, something sweet and tangy and crisp, cooked so well he could almost pretend he was at an open market on earth and not eating the remains of a purple tentacle monster in this strange world. “Yes he is,” he agrees, somehow knowing that Kodya is responsible for the taste.

Kodya’s eyes snap to Gyrus, sharp and calculating. He looks as if he is searching for something, brow furrowing as he does so.

“Please?” Sylvia begs, interpreting his expression as reluctance. “I really want to try it!”

Kodya’s eyes linger on Gyrus for a second longer before he closes them with a sigh. “I can do that,” he says.

“Just make sure it doesn’t have corn!” Gyrus adds, remembering Tori’s words from before. “She objects to it.” Kodya gives a stiff nod. 

“What will you be doing Sylvie?” Anan asks, expression hopeful. “You know if you haven’t got a job, you could help me with the cookies.”

“That’s sweet Anan,” Sylvia flashes him a smile. “But I already called the best job, setting up all the decorations!” She flexes a bicep casually. “It’ll be fun!”

“Yes it will,” Anan says, wide eyes focusing on her arm.

“All right team! Move out!” Gyrus says, the overwhelming urge to object to Anan’s flirting in the absence of Tori. “Remember, the party is at our place at 1500 hours!”

“What do you mean at our place?” Kodya’s frown darkens as he crosses his arms.

Gyrus gives an awkward giggle as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh did I forget to mention that?”

\-------------------  
Gyrus steps back to look at their handy work. His room looks completely different. The bed has been disassembled, the parts are stuffed in their enormous closet, opening up the downstairs into a large open space. In its place sat an ornate round table, fashioned out of plastic, but means to imitate fine ebony inlaid with gold. The chairs are mismatched, with one made of fine gold, or in this case, gold looking metal _and_ inlaid with pretty stones, one made out of silver looking metal, and the rest rough and wooden. In one corner, an even fancier chair has been designed to look like it’s made of gold, with a crown of iron seated on it. There’s a rack of medieval weapons, ranging from shields to clubs with iron spikes. All around, tapestries hung, projecting images of a woman and a unicorn. The closet door has been covered with a slab of wood that’s designed like a wardrobe with a lion on it, and an iron lamp post beside it.

Gyrus doesn’t get why it’s there. By all accounts it shouldn’t be, since lamp posts are from the industrial era, and not the medieval. But Yumeji had been strangely insistent, just like he was about the cardboard cutout of the blond elf that stood beside the throne. “So people can get pictures,” he explained, as if Gyrus is supposed to understand that. 

“Gyrus!” Oli calls from the balcony. “We’re not done yet! We’ve still got to get the dragon up!” He holds out the paper dragon kite for emphasis, whose head had yet to be fastened to the ceiling.

“Sorry!” Gyrus says as he hurries over. “I was just admiring our handy work.”

“It is pretty awesome,” Sylvia agrees from her position on the stairs. “But we gotta get this done before the others get here.” She beckons towards her and holds out her hands. “I’ll lift you up.”

Gingerly, Gyrus climbs up to her shoulders, then takes the head of the dragon from Oli. “Be careful,” he cautions. Gyrus nods and then strains upwards, towards the hook just slightly off the balcony. 

He can’t seem to reach it, no matter how hard he stretches his fingers. He bites his lip as he surveys the problem. He can try to get higher on Sylvia’s shoulders, but that would be risky, and have a greater chance of sending both of them tumbling down onto the round table below. Unless…

Gyrus scrunches up his face, concentrating on the dragon’s head in his hands. It begins to glow. _Excellent._ Slowly, he begins to ease it upwards. Easy, he thinks, just like opening the trick lock. The dragon’s head wavers slightly, then slips onto the hook. _Perfect!_

“Yes!” Gyrus shakes his fist in the air. 

“Careful!” Sylvia yelps as his movement rocks her. 

“Sorry!” Gyrus lets out a sheepish laugh. “Just glad that worked.” 

“Hey guys!” Yumeji shoves the door open, sonic-style hair bouncing with excitement. “I got the costumes!” 

Gyrus and Sylvia both jump, sending Gyrus toppling backwards into the air. He lands with a thud on something soft. Looking up his eyes met Oli’s worried ones. “Thanks Oli,” he smiles as he pulls himself off the larger man.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Oli responds as he helps Gyrus back to his feet. “Team Oli is small enough as it is.”

“Everything alright up there?” Yumeji asks.

“Everything’s fine!” Gyrus replies.

“Good,” Yumeji says, “then get down here and try on these costumes.”

Gyrus tries not to roll his eyes as he heads down the stairs. For someone who thought cosplay was really corny, Yumeji has been surprisingly dedicated, even going so far as to volunteer to oversee the decorations, and costumes himself. 

Yumeji shoves a package in each of their hands, grinning from ear to ear. “Open them and get dressed,” he commands. The three stare at him for a minute, before Sylvia gives a shrug and tears in. The other two follow her example.

“Oh!” Sylvia exclaims as she holds up the fine red velvet dress to herself. “It’s beautiful!”

“I thought you’d like it,” Yumeji grins. “Every ball needs a fine lady, wouldn’t you boys agree?”

“Absolutely!” Oli chirps. Gyrus nods with a grin.

Then Oli looks down at his own costume. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he frowns as he pulls out a hook.

“I think you gave Oli a pirate costume by mistake,” Gyrus points out.

“There were pirates back then,” Yumeji waves a hand in the air. “Besides, this is cosplay, it's not one hundred percent accurate. She won’t even notice.”

“If you say so,” Gyrus sighs as he pulls out his own costume. It looks strangely familiar. “Is this… my sleeping robe?” 

“Yup!” Yumeji nods. “You are going as a ninja!”

“These are my pajamas!” Gyrus points out, “I can’t go to a party in my pajamas!”

Yumeji places a hand on his shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. “Sometimes the best cosplays are nothing more than pajamas,” he says confidently.  
Gyrus wants to protest, but at that moment Kodya and Anan bustle in with the food, and there’s no time to protest. 

At least, he thinks as he and the others wait to surprise Tori after all the hustle and bustle of setting up the food, at least he isn’t the worst costume. That goes to Kodya, who’s shoved into a jester's hat and bright colored jacket. 

_“I don’t know, I think he looks kinda cute,”_ the voice in his head whispers.

_“Something is very wrong with you,”_ the other grumbles.

A knock comes from the door, startling Gyrus into paying full attention. “Gyrus?” Tori’s voice came from the door. “What was it ye wanted to discuss with me?” She opens the door, stepping into the now dark room. “Gyrus?” she calls again, voice hesitant and hand reaching to her side, where a sword might hang.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouts, jumping out of their hiding places. Nephthys hits the lights so that Tori could better see them. 

“Yah!” Tori screeches, jumping backwards, fists raised. She stops as her eyes adjust to the light. “Gyrus? Sylvia?” she asks.

Gyrus and Sylvia push their way forward. “Happy birthday!” Sylvia says.

“We threw you a surprise party!” Gyrus adds. “What do you think?” He steps to the side, swinging his arms wide to draw Tori’s attention to the room and the costumed people inside. 

“Wha…” Tori mouths as she begins to take in the tapestries and the round table. 

“Prince Anan, Sir Yumeji,” Nephthys says, voice as commanding as the queen she is dressed as. “Get Sir Tori her armor and sword. We’ve a banquet in her honor to prepare.”

Tori says nothing as Anan and Yumeji approach with her armor and sword. Placing it on silently. She follows as if in a daze to the round table, where Oli helped Kodya and Sylvia dish out their food, while Feather loiters in the background, tugging at their sorcerer’s robe. The others keep a stream of chatter, throwing in “thees” and “thous” and improbable backstories as they speak--everyone calls Tori the Champion of the Queen. 

Tori’s responses are small, one or two words, but there’s no malice in her tone, just awe and confusion. She stares around the room, taking in the tapestries and dragon hanging above. Yumeji sits by her side, eagerly informing her the histories of each piece to cosplay history. 

Finally the table is set and ready, and Nephthys pushes Tori towards the golden chair. “No,” Tori dug in her heels. “The queen sits there.” 

“It’s your birthday Tori,” Nephthys said with a slight smile on her lips. But Tori shakes her head. 

“The queen sits in the golden chair,” she said again, voice firm. “I’m her champion, I sit at her right hand.” 

‘If you insist,” Nephthys said, brows drawing together. Sylvia pulled out the silver chair and pushed it in as Tori sat down. Then she slipped into the wooden seat beside her. Gyrus took the seat on Sylvia’s other side, and Kodya slipped in beside him. The others arrange themselves in the remaining chairs, eyeing the food.

Gyrus can’t blame them, the smell that waffed from them was amazing. His mouth waters.

_“I’ve missed Kodya’s cooking,”_ a voice murmurs.

_“It has been two years, too long,”_ the other groans. 

Nephthys takes the food, and dishes out a portion to Tori, before she gets some for herself. Tori opens herself to protest, but Nephthys shoots her with an insistent smile.

“Just take it Tori,” Sylvia says. “So we can all eat!”

Tori closes her mouth and allows Sylvia and Nephthys to dish out the rest of her food before passing it around. Gyrus grabs a portion eagerly, filling his plate to the brim. He wants to dive in right away, but something holds him back, a memory of Halemoni’s voice coming back to him. “Don’t jump in right away,” she’d say. “Wait until the guest of honor has started.”

Gyrus glances at Tori, impatient to begin. He holds his breath as she lifts her fork and delicately stabs the food beneath her, then lifts it up to her mouth tantalizingly slowly. She takes a bite, and begins to chew. A tear rolls down her cheek, then another one. Gyrus freezes, unsure if he is seeing correctly. Tori raises a hand to try and wipe them away, but it does no good, as soon as she caught one another fell. “It’s just,” she sobs as she wipes another away with her fist, “So spicy.”

Gyrus looks down at the food, apprehension twisting in his gut. He takes a tentative bite. It isn’t particularly spicy, but it tastes familiar, so familiar something tugs in his heart. He stares down at his plate, watching it swim in and out of his vision. “Really spicy,” he agrees as the tears begin to fall.

\-----------------------  
“You okay?” Gyrus asks Tori. As the two hide in the bathroom to ‘get water and tissues.’

Tori gives a sniffle as she pulls out a tissue. “Everything is wrong,” she says from her place sitting against the cabinets. “The table is round. It should be rectangular. They have forks when they should have spoons. The tapestries are all wrong, and I have no idea what that stupid metal thing we had to walk by was supposed to be.”  
“I’m sorry,” Gyrus offers, unsure what else to say as he crouches down beside her. Tori shakes her head.

“Don’t be,” she says, a faint smile on her lips. “I really appreciated the effort, if it was completely wrong on all accounts.” The smile slips off her face. “She would have loved it.”

“She?” Gyrus asks, placing a tentative hand on Tori’s shoulder.

“My Queen.” Tori gives another sniffle, running a fist over her eyes. “You saw her in the truth realm. She lies sleeping on a bed from which she may never rise.” Tori bows her head. “I miss her,” she whispers.

Gyrus sits beside her, helpless. Carefully he rubs her back as she continues to sob for a few minutes more. As she sobs, Gyrus contemplates what she said, about the decorations and the corrections. He remembers the past visions she had seen, and the strange chains on her wrists that looked far too much like real iron to be the plastic kind commonly used by the police.

Tori straightens, rubbing her eyes and pulling herself upwards. “Thank you Gyrus,” she smiles at him. “Ye are truly kind.” 

Gyrus gives her a warm grin. “It’s the least I could do,” he says. Then hesitantly he adds, “Tori?”

“Yes Gyrus?” she looks at him, eyes red and expectant as she leans forward.

“You really are a knight aren’t you?” Gyrus says. 

Tori blinks, looking a bit confused, but gives him a small nod, a slight grin crossing her face. “Always,” she says.

“Oh, okay,” Gyrus looks down at the floor as the last of his denial slowly slipped away. 

_“Finally! Now we can get to explaining the weird parts of this place!”_ says a voice in his head.

_“And face how everyone is lying to you,”_ the other adds.

Gyrus frowns, shaking his head fiercely to get them to shut up.

“Gyrus?” Tori asks. Gyrus looks up at her, to see her brow drawn in concern. “Why was it ye began crying?”

“I’m not sure,” Gyrus answers honestly, then hesitates. Could he confide in Tori? He isn’t even certain how to put it into words. But if ever there was a chance to try, it was now. He opens his mouth.

“Guys!” Sylvia’s voice rings through the door as she bangs sharply against it. “Get back out here! Nephthys got Kodya to pose next to the blond elf man, and it looks hilarious!”

Gyrus glances at Tori, the moment gone. He gives her a fixed smile. “Ready to go back out?”

Tori gives a sharp nod in return, and together they exit to enjoy the rest of the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tori, looking at a miserable Kodya in his jester costume: In my day, the jester would sing and dance for the amusement of the Queen.  
> Kodya: Absolutely not.  
> Sylvia: (thumbs up)  
> Kodya: No  
> Gyrus: it is Tori's birthday  
> Kodya: ...  
> Nephthys (raises her hand and points like a queen): Jester Kody! You must dance for me!  
> Kodya: Nephthys, I trusted you.  
> Nephthys (raises a hand to her ears): That doesn't sound like a song to me!  
> Kodya (singing as he does a Russian jig): I hate you all.  
> Tori: ...  
> Tori: I don't know what I was expecting...but this is one hundred time better! Do it again!


	13. Something Rattling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kodya starts breaking the rules and Gyrus meets more aliens

“That was quite the party don’t you think?” Gyrus smiles at Kodya as he pulls one of the tapestries from the wall. “I really think Tori really had fun in the end.”  


Kodya grunts as he tries to disassemble the table. “Could have done without the costumes.” He shoots a particularly nasty look at the jesters hat, which sits innocently on the throne. “What was Yumeji even thinking, using low stat gear…” he shuts his mouth with a snap.

_There’s that word again. Stats. Kodya mentioned it when he gave us those outfits for the alien planet too. But what does that mean?_

_“Well, that’s actually a very interesting question of which I have several theories…”_ a voice in his head said.

_“Video game logic,” says the other. “Don’t think about it too hard.”_

_“You most certainly should, picking the right gear is optimal.”_

_“You mean to tell me you’re dressed like an emo band because it's optimal?"_

Gyrus shakes his head violently, unable to make the voices stop. He glances up to see Kodya looking at him with concern. He gives him a brief smile. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”  


“It’s nothing,” Kodya shrugs, but keeps concerned eyes on Gyrus. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh definitely, just a bit of a headache, nothing to worry about,” Gyrus says then gives a slight flinch. _Wait._ Headaches aren’t a symptom of his illness are they? He can’t remember. “The costumes were pretty cool,” he says hoping to distract Kodya.

It works, a scowl crossing Kodya’s face as he clearly disagrees. “I looked like a fool.”  


“No, no,” Gyrus lies as he rolls the tapestry up. “It wasn’t that bad!” Kodya raises an eyebrow, and Gyrus adds with a sheepish laugh, “at least you weren’t in your pajamas.”  


Kodya opens his mouth to say something, perhaps to protest that his costume was worse, but whatever he intends to say was lost when the table gives a sharp snap and folds on top of him. He lets out a curse in Russian and struggles out from underneath it.  


“Are you okay?” Gyrus drops the tapestry, letting it unroll as he hurries over, but Kodya waves his concern off. “Stupid table,” he grumbles as he sits up beside it, wiping his nose from where it got wacked. “You’d think someone would have stayed longer to help us put it all away.”  


Gyrus tries not to point out that they had offered to stay and help clean up, especially Tori. But since it’s her birthday Gyrus didn’t want her to work, and so he had told her it would be easy and that ‘they could handle it.’ Which Anan had overheard and promptly told everyone, resulting in only Gyrus and Kodya being left behind.  


“It was pretty late,” he says instead.  


Kodya rolls his eyes. “So we stay up later without any help?” Gyrus bites his lip and looks down. Kodya sighs.  


“If you don’t want to help, you can go and lie down.” Gyrus snaps, feeling slightly hurt. “I’ll finish on my own.”  


“There’s that self-destructive streak,” Kodya says as he pulls himself to his feet. “So immature.”  


“Excuse me?” Gyrus rises to his feet beside him.

_“Oh it's the ‘self-destructive streak’ speech,”_ says a voice in his head. _“I know this one.”_

_“He’s not wrong though,” the other responds._

_“But you didn’t change at all, did you?” the first retorts._

_“Look, it's complicated.”_

Kodya strides over to the closet and begins navigating the mattress outside it. “Help me,” he says. “Then we’ll both get some rest.”  


Gyrus casts an appraising glance around the room, eyeing the disassembled table, the throne shoved to the side to block the path upstairs, and the assorted weapons still littered about. “I don’t know, getting upstairs is going to be a hassle.”  


Kodya’s head lowers at his words, but he continues to tug at the larger mattress. “Then you can sleep on this thing, and I’ll use a sleeping bag. I’m sure we have one inside here somewhere.”  


“And you call me self-destructive,” Gyrus raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one who just got beaned by a table. You should take the mattress.”  


Kodya frowns. “No, you are sleeping on this. You’re the one who spent all the time decorating.”  


“And you’re the one who spent all the time cooking,” Gyrus insists, not wanting to rob Kodya of a good night’s sleep again.  


Kodya crosses his arms. “Absolutely not. It’s yours.”

_“Oh for the love of everything! Just share!”_ a voice in Gyrus’ head shouts.

And maybe Gyrus is too tired to think clearly, but that idea is beginning to make sense.

_“Wait really? Does this mean you’ll listen to the rest of what we’ve got to say?" ___

__Gyrus shakes his head, a yawn creeping through his lips. “We’ll share,” he says tiredly. _Don’t get your hopes up, he adds mentally.__ _

__“Oh, okay,” Kodya ducks his head, but Gyrus can see the tips of his ears turn red in the dim light. “We can do that.” He shuffles the mattress out of the closet and drops it to the ground.  
__

____

____

Gyrus immediately collapses on it, resting half seated and feeling the exhaustion rush over him like a tidal wave. Kodya hesitates, shifting from foot to foot above him. Gyrus pats the mattress invitingly, as he scoots to one side. “Come on,” he says. “It’s like camping.”  


__“Like camping,” Kodya agrees, slowly lowering himself to the other end, and positioning himself with his back to Gyrus so he’s as far to the side as possible. Gyrus feels a bit insulted, because really, there’s plenty of room, and it’s not like he moves in his sleep that much. He wasn’t going to kick Kodya in the middle of the night, so he didn’t need to be super careful. At least he doesn’t think he does, maybe Kodya has noticed something he hasn’t?_ _

_“Don’t,” hisses a voice in his head._

_“What?” the other replies._

_“You’re about to make a comment about sleeping arrangements, and I don’t want to hear it.”_

If Gyrus could see the voices, he’d be certain the black clothed one is pouting. Which reminds him... “Kodya?” he asks.  


“What?” Kodya’s voice drifts over from his spot on the mattress.  


“Were you always on this crew?” Gyrus asks, staring upwards at the little dragon hanging above him, and hoping Kodya can’t see how intently he’s listening.  


“Of course not,” Kodya sighs.  


“Why did you join?” Gyrus asks as the little dragon swings slightly to the left, hoping it sounds casual.  


Kodya is silent for a long moment before he says, “I didn’t have much of a choice.” 

“Oh,” is all Gyrus can think of to say. _Well that answers nothing,_ he thinks. The dragon swings to the right. _Unless maybe he’s like Tori,_ a part of him whispers, maybe that’s why Gyrus could never figure out what he did. But that seemed farfetched to assume without proof. Maybe he was simply like Gyrus, lost in a mad world. 

“I joined because I wanted answers,” Gyrus whispers, a memory of the black and yellow of his exploding planet dancing before his eyes. “To know why everything was so strange and find a way to stop it. But now,-” he reaches up a hand to the dragon above, “- ever since I recovered from that sickness, everything has seemed so off, like a dream.” Voices in his head, memories of times that weren’t there, alien ruins that could read your mind, tastes he couldn’t quite remember but made him cry, and now a knight who’s inexplicably on their ship. Nothing makes sense. He pulls his hand close to his chest. “How do you know that this is reality?” he whispers.  


Kodya rolls over to face the dragon above them. “Maybe dreams and reality aren’t so different,” he whispers in response.  


Silence stretches between them as Gyrus tries to dissect this particular brand of cryptic that Kodya feels like being today. Dreams and reality are the same? That doesn’t make sense. Especially to say to someone who’d gone mad from paranoia. Maybe he’s trying to tell him not to worry about all the strangeness so he didn’t obsess? Or maybe the memories and voices aren’t connected to the madness, but to something else, but then what?  


Deep inside himself he can hear the rattling of a metal door, sharp and loud.  


Kodya rolls back onto his side. “Go to sleep kid,” he says, as if he can’t hear the crashing noise.  


Something cold grips Gyrus’s heart as the insistent banging increases. He tries to tune it out in favor of listening to Kodya’s steady breathing, but sleep comes hard that night.  


\---------------------  


“What was so important that ye called us to the closet once again?” Tori asks as the mop tangles in her hair.  


“And why didn’t we get Kodya?” asks Sylvia from her place on the mop bucket.  


“A compilation of madness,” Gyrus offers, as he rubs sleepy eyes. Sylvia and Tori blink at him in confusion. Realizing his words are not making sense, Gyrus tries again with a yawn he tries to disguise as a sigh. “I wanted to go over Tori’s origins, and everything else weird in this ship, and I thought you might want to break it to Sylvia in private before telling Kodya.”  


“Is this about my queen?” Tori stiffens, eyebrows drawing together. “If he’s a problem with her…”  


“Not really,” Gyrus interrupts with a shake of his head. “Just on how you are a knight, like from the 1000s kind of knight.”  


“Well I don’t see why ye’d need to treat that with such caution,” Tori says as she places a hand on her hip. “You were both aware of my title when we first met.”  
“Yes, but he may not have believed you, like how I thought you were a cosplayer,” Gyrus points out.  


“He what?!” Tori screams, making both Gyrus and Sylvia flinch. Gyrus’s head catches on the shelf with a sharp bang. His hand reaches up to rub it automatically as Tori looks down. “My apologies,” she says. “But while I’ll forgive yer misunderstanding due to injury, I cannot overlook it if he does the same.”  


“But it wouldn’t have been intentional,” Gyrus quickly interjects, not wanting to create a larger rift between the two. “Its just that we’re a crew traveling through space in the year 2545, and all knights disappeared over a 1000 years ago.”  


“I fail to see what you mean,” Tori crosses her arms again.  


“I’m saying that it should be impossible for you to be here,” Gyrus says, feeling impatient that they were stuck on this point instead of moving on. “You’re a time traveler. Even the greatest of scientists never found a way to crack time travel. The fact that you’re here is a miracle, right Sylvia?” he looks down at the girl on the mop bucket, who has been oddly quiet.  


Sylvia bit her lip. “You keep using numbers,” she said.  


“What?” Gyrus looks down at her, wondering if he just missed the point thanks to his sleep addled brain.  


“2545, and 1000, I don’t understand what you mean by that,” Sylvia said. “Why would you count the years?”  


Gyrus blinks at her. “I don’t know, to keep track of time, so we keep the millions of years of history all lined up straight, to make it simpler. You know, like they teach in school?”  


Sylvia frowns, and looks down at her feet. “Ever since I came here, everything has been so strange. In my village, we don’t count the years, except maybe the years we live. What’s the point if there’s no way to write it down?”  


“No way to write it down...?” Gyrus’ mouth falls open, and even Tori looks confused. “Are you telling me you don’t have a system of writing?” He blurts out, staring at Sylvia  


“Even I know what writing is,” Tori adds, “And I grew up in a mining village.”  


Sylvia shrugs. “It’s just the way it is, we’ve food to collect, which is far more important.”  


Something clicks in Gyrus’s brain. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Are you telling me you’re also a time traveler?” One he could have overlooked, but two? Just what is going on?  


The door swings open suddenly, and Sylvia, Tori, and Gyrus all jump. Gyrus winces as his head hits the shelf, again.  


“Kodya?” Sylvia questions. Gyrus opens his eyes to see Kodya standing in the doorway.  


“Come with me,” Kodya says by way of greeting. “We’re running out of time.”  


Tori scowls, arms crossed in a way that mirrors Kodya’s usual behavior perfectly. “We will need more explanation than that hunter,” she says.  


Kodya pinches his brow and sighs. “The next mission leader has been chosen. We need to get Gyrus ready and we are running out of time.”  


“What do you mean? Am I going to be in charge of a mission?” Gyrus asks, worry curdling in his stomach. He’s never done well on missions for the captain. He can only imagine how badly he’d mess up if he were left in charge.

_“Better than you think,”_ a voice whispers in his mind.

“You aren’t going to be in charge,” Kodya sighs. “But Ragan is.” He grimaces and Gyrus’s heart drops to his stomach. That’s even worse.  


“Don would let someone like that lead?” Tori growls. “She’s a monster!” Behind her Sylvia nods in agreement.  


“Ragan has the least amount of deaths on her team, since-” Kodya’s eyes land on Gyrus for a brief second, “-for a long time. She’s more than capable for the others, but for Gyrus...” Kodya shook his head. “Just come,” he says as he turns and heads down the hallways.  


Tori, Sylvia, and Gyrus all exchange glances. Finally Gyrus shrugs and steps forward, hurrying after the other man. Time travel and the rest of the mysteries can wait.  


\---------------------  


“We’ll be safe here,” Kodya says as he opens a door. “No one comes here anymore except for me, and maybe Oli.”  


The room inside was unlike anything they had seen before in the ship. The seamless floor was covered in hay and dried grass, and the scent of animal fur tickles at the back of Gyrus’ throat. To the left are stables made of wood. To the right are ropes and saddles, all hung up in a row. And directly in front is a fenced inclusion holding the strangest creatures Gyrus has ever seen.  


“Aliens!” Gyrus cries, running forward towards them with Sylvia and Tori hot on his heels. At the sound of their approach, the strange furry creatures bolt to the back of the pen and then turn and give him and his friends wary looks. Gyrus climbs up onto the fence, his allergy forgotten in favor of gazing in wonder at the creatures before him. They’re tall and horned, rabbit-like in their faces but are built like a hybrid of a kangaroo and a horse. He wonders what the zoologist on board must have thought, then frowns. Why can’t he remember their name?  


“Careful, they’re skittish,” Kodya says as he moves to the side of the pen beside Tori.  


“What manner of beast are these?” Tori asks as her hand drifts to where her sword’s hilt should rest.  


“Are they food?” Slyvia asks, eyeing the creatures with drool slipping out of her mouth.  


“No they aren’t food,” Kodya replies, “they’re our mounts.” He holds his hand to his mouth and lets out a low whistle. One of the creatures breaks off from the pack, and trots forward. Gyrus sucks in a breath as it comes directly up to Kodya, letting him stroke its neck. “Hello old girl,” Kodya coos. The creature gives a low whinny of agreement, and Kodya smiles a soft, warm smile.  


Gyrus doesn’t think he’s ever smiled like that before.

_“Beautiful isn’t it?”_ A voice whispers.

_“Please stop talking,”_ the other says.

“I have never seen a mount like this,” Tori whispers in awe, reaching out a hesitant hand towards it.  


“You can pet her if you like,” Kodya says, and Tori eagerly accepts the offer to touch the soft fur, past tensions forgotten in the wake of her own curiosity. Sylvia reached over to pet her too. The rest of the animals, seeing that nothing happened to the first, begin coming forward.  


Gyrus moves to join them, the strange cold pulses through his body again, making him stop. He stands beside the pen, struggling to steady his breathing as the drumming comes again, a sharp bang, bang, bang as something grows closer and closer to freedom.  


A snort comes from his left, and something begins tugging on the back of his hair. Gyrus calls out in fear as he twists his head to free himself from the monster’s grip. “Help!” he cries.  


Kodya appears beside him, gently reaching up beside him, and Gyrus follows his movement to catch a glimpse of an alien’s fully pelt. “He’s just glad to see you again,” Kodya explains as he tugs Gyrus’ hair out of its mouth. “It’s been a long time.” 

“I’ve met the aliens before?” Gyrus asks absently as the cold recedes. Kodya’s jaw snaps shut as he glances away, while the alien begins to nibble on his hair too. _Interesting._ So there’s something important Kodya was leaving out. “Are they not aliens at all?” Gyrus presses. “Are they some kind of dinosaur we rediscovered with time travel?”

At the mention of time travel Kodya’s eyes snap upwards. Gyrus grins. So he’d been right, time travel was known by the crew. “What do you know about time travel Kodya?” he asks.  


Kodya tugs the creature forward. “Help me put them back in their stables,” he says.  


“Oh come on!” Gyrus protests. Tori frowns at his side, hands still buried in the alien's fur.  


“Closet gang means no secrets,” Sylvia adds as she steps towards Kodya imploringly.  


Kodya sighs. “If you do well enough in training, I’ll tell you what I know.” He opens the gate and leads the alien to one of the stables. Gyrus and the others quickly scramble to help him, and it takes barely fifteen minutes to get each one into their respective stall.  


When they’re finally finished, Kodya stalks back inside the now empty pen. Gyrus follows with a sigh. “When you said, ‘do well in training,’ you meant ‘do your best’ right?” he asks hopefully.  


Kodya’s smile is sharp and pointed, and Gyrus finds that he wishes he doesn’t know what it looks like.  


\------------------  


It took a week before Kodya finally deemed Gyrus good enough to get an answer. One week of relentless training and getting thrown into the hay again, and again, and again. This training was a lot like the last training, in that it left Gyrus exhausted and sweaty and feeling like he was going to die. There were only two exceptions. The first was that now they were allowed to use their powers, which had some cool advantages, like learning they had something called an inventory. And hadn’t that been a day, Sylvia had promptly gone to the kitchen and stored all the food she could find until they could convince her to let everyone else eat. But mainly, new powers meant that Kodya had new and exciting ways to make the closet gang’s lives miserable.  


The second was that it is now very illegal, as Kodya still isn’t allowed to train Gyrus without ‘supervision,’ which Don had apparently made clear to Kodya, meant Ragan. So in turn, they had no break from chores, had to do a lot of sneaking around at odd hours, and had to pick someone as a lookout. Gyrus had been briefly excited when the lookout was first mentioned that he might get an occasional break, but Kodya had made it very clear that Gyrus and himself were exempt from this rule. When Tori and Sylvia had protested, he rebuffed them by cryptically stating that “neither of you have a very high risk of being chosen for this mission, but there is no way that Gyrus won’t be, so I need him prepared.” He then gave no further elaboration into that particularly worrying comment, much to Gyrus’s annoyance.  


So when Gyrus finally put Kodya in the dirt at one late night training session, it was with more than a little feeling. As much as Gyrus could tell that Kodya was really only being so harsh because he was worried about whatever it was that Gyrus would face, there was a strong satisfaction in seeing him hit the ground for once.  


“And that’s a round!” Sylvia calls from the side where she had been playing referee.  


“I win!” Gyrus brags as he collapses beside Kodya in the dirt. “Now you have to give me an answer, remember?”  


“What was it I had to answer again?” Kodya groans from beside him.  


“You have to answer about time,” Sylvia calls from her place on the side. “And then you have to fight me!” Sylvia adds, practically bouncing with anticipation. Gyrus stifles a grin as Kodya drags himself upward. Yep, watching someone else get beaten felt so good.  


“Time travel,” Kodya pulls himself into a sitting position. “I don’t know much, but I do know this.” He glances at Gyrus from the corner of his eye. Gyrus leans forward. “Where I come from, the year is 1812.”  


“What?” Gyrus exclaims. “You’re a time traveler too? You aren’t from Don’s crew?” It explains why he said he didn’t have a choice. Three time travelers, there’s no way that’s a coincidence. “Is this why I can’t remember you?” he asks.  


“You could put it that way,” Kodya shifts awkwardly. “Look, I don’t really know why it works the way it does, but if you meet anyone from a realm, they’ll all tell you they are from a different time period.”  


“And how many people here are from realms?” Gyrus scoots closer, a strange urgency mingling at the back of his brain. Kodya looks away, red on his cheeks.  


“There were already quite a few people when I got here, but I think it’s…” Kodya closes his mouth looking like he’s struggling to make up his mind.  


“But?” Gyrus prompts. He has half a mind about what Kodya is going to say, but he needs to hear it to confirm it. Behind Kodya, Sylvia motions for him to use her signature big-eyes beg. Gyrus copies her movements and turns it on Kodya. He bites his lip.  


“Ring!” the radio goes off with a start, and Kodya struggles to pull it out of his pocket.  


“Hello?” he says as he holds the radio up to his ear.  


“Kodya, where are you?” Don’s voice echoes over it. Kodya glances at Gyrus, and raises a finger to his lips.  


“I’m with the mounts,” he says loudly. “Why?”  


“Get to command,” Don says. “There is something I need to discuss with you before the mission tomorrow.” Kodya’s face draws into a hard frown, but he nods.  


“I’ll be there,” he says, and turns off the radio. He shoots Gyrus and Sylvia a slightly apologetic look. “I have to go,” he says.  


“It’s fine,” Sylvia says with a wave of her hand. “We can fight tomorrow.”  


“Yeah,” Gyrus adds. “You can tell me more about time travel when you get home tonight.”  


Kodya gives a nod, and slips out of the stables, passing a very confused Tori at the entrance. Impatience rises in Gyrus as he watches him go, fighting with the anxiety of what he fears is the answer. He keeps it contained though, knowing he can make Kodya explain when he returns to their room. But as the hours count into night, Kodya does not return.  


\--------------------  


Gyrus hurries through the hallways, all of them seemingly empty. Has he missed something important? For a second he wonders if he’s dreaming, but no. The dream corridors of his ship are not arches, but square. And even in his mind, he can always hear those two voices arguing.  


Cold claws at the side of his mind, sending shivers down his spine. He glances over his shoulder but sees nothing. It does nothing to reassure him though, because as soon as he turns his back it returns. Something is wrong, something big, and Gyrus doesn’t know what. 

_“Oh no,”_ a voice echoes in his mind. _“No, no, no. It can’t be.”_

_“What is it?”_ the other voice says.

The kitchen is up ahead, and Gyrus ducks inside, hoping to hide from the cold. Oli is there, and Gyrus breathes a sigh of relief as the sight of him sends the cold spiralling away. “Oli,” he calls, and the man jumps and nearly drops what he’s holding.  


“Gyrus!” Oli relaxes as he recognizes him. “You’re not usually in the kitchens this early.”  


Gyrus shrugs as he leans against the kitchen counter, trying not to look like he’d been scared out of his mind. “I can’t find Anan or Tori or Sylvia for morning cleaning, and Kodya hasn’t been back to our rooms.” He eyes Oli hopefully. “Do you know where everyone is?”  


“Kodya was probably helping make battle plans,” Oli pulls out several bags and begins stuffing them. “As for the rest, they’re probably already in the portals’ room,” Oli stuffs more food in a bag and dismisses it into his inventory. “I’m actually running a bit late.” He gives Gyrus a grin. “You can come with me, and then everyone will think you were helping me.”  


“No one told me, so I think I’m free to be late,” Gyrus rolls his eyes, but relief fills him at the knowledge that he doesn’t have to be alone. He grabs a bag from the counter.  


“If you say so,” Oli shrugs as he leads the way down. “Oh!” he gives a slight jump and reaches into his inventory to pull out some chocolate. “I finished making the chocolate for Sylvia!” He holds up the heart shaped chocolate in a box. “It’s absolutely perfect! I’m bringing it just in case she gets chosen. If not, I’ll just give it to her after the others are gone.”

Gyrus eyes the heart shape, and realizes he may have severely misjudged Oli’s intentions towards Sylvia. Looks like Tori was right. Oops. Hopefully she would accept the gift and if necessary, reject him gently. He’d hate to have two of his friends fighting. Oli is looking at him for a reaction, so Gyrus gives him a smile. “I’m sure she’ll enjoy eating it,” he says, because he is absolutely certain that this at least is true. “I’m rooting for you,” he adds, because as much as he didn’t want to interfere, he was admittedly way more on team Oli than team Anan. _Sorry Anan._

_“We need to warn him,”_ a voice whispers urgently. _“If it’s really…”_

Gyrus turns to Oli, and deliberately asks about how he’d gotten the shape to hold. Oli had launched into a lecture about cooking experiments, and Gyrus let the sound wash over him but as they came into the warpgate room, the conversation tapers off in the midst of everyone's solemn faces. Ragan stood before a line of people, talking.  


“Is everyone usually this grim before missions?” Gyrus whispers to Oli. Oli nods his head and pulls Gyrus into line beside Tori and Sylvia.  
“People die on these, and these last few ones have not been easy,” he whispers back.

“People _die?!”_ Gyrus exclaims. Everyone glares at him.

“Battery!” Ragan shouts, as she marches towards Gyrus. “You have something to say?”  


“Not really?” Gyrus shrinks back. The cold comes back, and Gyrus has to keep from shivering.  


“Good,” Ragan snaps, then grabs him by the back of his neck and pulls him forward. “Now get up here!” She throws him up to the line in front. Gyrus stumbles, but manages to catch himself beside Anan.  


“Hi!” he gives him a small wave and a smile. Anan does not return it, face set and nervous as sweat rolls down his neck. He keeps his eyes on Ragan. Gyrus wonders if he can somehow tell that Gyrus had just officially become team Oli. He hopes not, a glance down the rest of the line reveals no other familiar faces.

_**“Don’t fool yourself, you were never one of them,”** _ a new voice hisses, like ice cold water trickling down his spine.

_“Was that you?”_ another voice says, warm like a blanket.

_“We’re all in trouble now,”_ a third voice says, grim as stone.

“And that’s five!” Ragan says, hands on her hips. “All my choices are done.” Gyrus feels like he’s breaking out of icy water coming back to reality as the woman stalks before him.

“But you have a spot left!” Tori points out, outraged. 

“That’s because I have someone to fill it.” Don wheels himself forward. “We don’t usually ask someone to complete a realm back to back, but given the circumstances-,” Gyrus feels a chill roll down his back as the man smiles at him, “-I pick Kodya.” The doors swing wide as Kodya marches forward with the mounts harnessed behind him, shoulders straight, and the picture of a model soldier.

Wait soldier? Gyrus shakes his head. Kodya isn’t a soldier is he? He’s from 1812, but he never said he’d fought in a war.

_“He did,”_ a voice in the back of his mind whispers. _“But that’s not important. What’s important is what’s coming.”_

Kodya steps into line beside Kodya, and Gyrus tries to give him a smile, lips struggling to tilt upward after the freezing cold in his brain. In the end it doesn’t matter, because like Anan, Kodya refuses to look over. Gyrus turns his own attention to the line in front of him. Tori gives him a worried look, and Sylvia gives him a thumbs up. They seem so far away, and he wonders why they can’t feel the mounting dread in the air.

“...And that is everything.” Don’s words come into focus just in time for the end of the speech. “Let the mission begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan (frowning): You've gotten a lot better at your powers recently Gyrus  
> Gyrus (remembering all the secret training with Kodya): Have I?  
> Anan: You know what this means.  
> Gyrus (fearfully): Nooo?  
> (flashes to Gyrus using his powers to hold everyone upside down on the ceiling while he mops)  
> Anan (with his hands on his hips as his hair hangs backwards): Best use of powers ever. I am never giving this up.


	14. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission proceeds to be worse than everyone expected.

Gyrus is really struggling to stay positive on this mission as he shifts in his saddle of his mount, staring at the strange, bulky packages that are hooked to the back of the mount in front of him. It had begun with an ominous warning calling them “hopelessly lost souls” and proceeded to inform them that some of them would not survive, but they had to do it anyway. And it all got worse from there. 

The ‘realm’ apparently includes a large plain with some kind of house or something in the far distance. Ragan has taken off on a run while the others pick out their mount of choice in preparation for a long journey. As they wait for her return, Gyrus tries introducing himself to the other party members, but is met with a usually less than friendly reaction. 

“I’m Gyrus!” Gyrus stuck out his hand with a grin at the strange bald man before him. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“And we aren’t going to,” the man swats it away like it’s poison. “Stay away from me.” He jumps on his mount and rides off, deliberately pushing his mount to kick dust in Gyrus’s face. 

Then Ragan returns, revealing that the house is very likely the next clue as there isn’t anything else out here, and they’d best get riding. She puts everyone in formation, which places Kodya all the way up in the front with her, and Gyrus all the way in the back, with a woman in green to be the “support class.” 

Gyrus tries to make the best of it, shooting her a wide smile. “My name is Gyrus,” he said, because there was nothing wrong with politeness, he added. “Pleased to be working with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t care what Ragan says,” the woman sniffs as she pulls her mount forward to ride beside Anan and Feather. “I don’t work with freaks.” Gyrus stares after her, confusion welling up inside him. What’s with everyone?

**_“They’re beginning to see,”_** a gravelly voice whispers as a chill overtakes him. **_“They know you aren’t like them.”_ **

He shakes his head, but the cold doesn’t recede, echoing laughter builds up, until he couldn’t hear anything over it and the pounding of his own head.

_“It’s getting stronger, we need to do something.”_ A more familiar voice says.

_“Like what?”_ the other demands.

Anan leans forward towards the woman, and for a second Gyrus feels a flicker of hope that he would defend him. 

“Hey,” Anan says, “maybe don’t antagonize the dude who's a ticking time bomb?”

“I’m not a coward like you Anan,” the woman retorts. “I’m not going to be nice to him in hopes he doesn't kill me.” Anan flinches back, and avoids her eyes. Gyrus feels his heart stop. Is that all their friendship has been to him? 

“The bomb’s a dud,” Ragan calls from ahead. “It doesn’t matter how he feels!” That seems to be all that the lady in green needed, because she stuck out her tongue at Anan, and brings her mount into step with Feather. Anan glances back at Gyrus, but refuses to look him in the eyes, hunching his shoulders as he turns his gaze forward and keeps it that way.

_I’m telling Sylvia,_ a childish part of Gyrus’s brain whispers. It’s stupid, but a small, spiteful part of himself is grateful he’s fully committed to Team Oli. Unless maybe he deserves it, what with killing twelve people and all. He hangs his head and pulls back.

Riding behind the whole group, who keep shooting him disgusted looks whenever he rides too close, makes it very obvious that they do not want him to get any closer. And worst of all, the pounding of his head hasn’t gone away. If anything, it seems to be getting worse. Gyrus shakes his head, the reigns blurring before his eyes. Somewhere deep inside he hears sharp laughter.

_“It’s getting closer.”_

_“Calm down, and let me think!”_

A hand shoots out and catches the reins, pulling the mount forward with a sharp jerk. Gyrus raises his eyes to follow the hand up to Kodya’s frowning face. “Be more alert kid,” he sighs as he hands them back to Gyrus. Gyrus didn’t respond, staring down at them with a pout. Why is Kodya even here? To try and make friends so Gyrus doesn’t try and kill him like Anan?

Kodya whacks him lightly on the back of his head. 

“Stop that,” he nags. As Gyrus raises a hand to rub the stop he hit, outrage boiling inside him. Kodya raises a single eyebrow and Gyrus bites back his reply. Kodya’s expression softens slightly. “Look, some people just aren’t going to like you,” he glances up at the group in front of them. “And sometimes it's deserved and sometimes it's not, but that doesn’t matter.” He shifts in his seat. “Just do your job so we can all get back home. Ok?”

“What job?” Gyrus protests. “Cleaning toilets? Running laps? Because it sure as hell isn’t the engineering job I was hired for in the first place!” He brakes off, angrily staring down at the saddle.

“You’re still pretty smart though,” Kodya shrugs. “Use your head. That’s your thing.”

“His thing is he’s a battery!” Ragan calls from ahead. “I don’t care what decrepit thing you would have used him for Kodya, but this is my mission, and he’s just here to power up the guns.”

“Power guns?” Gyrus asks Kodya, a spark of hope filling his chest. Maybe there really is something he can use his engineering skills for. 

“I don’t know how it works,” Kodya pinches the bridge of his nose, “but it should be harmless, or at least I’m pretty sure it will be, it's never been tested.”   
Gyrus feels the color drain from his face as Ragan yells, “Stop telling him important information!”

“My student, my rules,” Kodya shouts back. “You don’t want him to panic and make everything worse do you?” 

_What a lovely vote of confidence Kodya,_ Gyrus thinks. _So nice to see how much you believe in me._ But it seems to work at shutting Ragan up, so there’s that at least.

“Don’t worry about being a battery,” Kodya says as he turns back to Gyrus. “With any luck you won’t even have to worry about it until much later. For now just focus on keeping your head down and being useful. Got it?” 

“Got it,” Gyrus parrots, feeling his headache returning. Kodya nods his head in response, then turns his attention to the group ahead and doesn’t spare Gyrus another glance. But he doesn’t leave his side for the rest of the trip.  
\--------------------  
The building is indeed a house, small and wooden with a bright red roof. It looked like something right out of a fairytale book. Gyrus remembers reading about in his youth. It looks far too human, not at all like something an alien would design. The others circle the building, faces grim. Gyrus notes that every single one of them have drawn their swords. 

Ragan raises a hand in a signal that he doesn't know, and the bald man kicks down the door, sword raised high, and the strange package strapped to his back. Gyrus can just hear an old voice say, “Come to visit Granny?” before a scream cuts it off.

“Clear!” the bald man appears at the door, sword red with what looks like blood. Gyrus feels sick. One by one everyone files into the house. Gyrus glances down as he crosses the threshold, to see the grisly body of a wolf in old lady’s clothing. So this is Granny.

“You killed her!” he says, voice accusing. This alien had been intelligent enough to talk. It hadn’t done anything dangerous yet, and he killed her like it’s nothing. 

“Sympathizing with monsters? How very in character,” the bald man raised an eyebrow.

“It would have killed him if he had given it the chance,” Kodya steps between Gyrus and the bald man. “Besides, even I know that the wolf in granny’s clothing doesn’t deserve pity.”

Gyrus wants to protest that this isn’t Little Red Ridinghood, this is real life, but Kodya shoots him a look that very clearly says, _let it go._ So Gyrus does, turning away from the alien’s corpse and joining everyone else as they begin to search through the house.

Gyrus isn’t exactly sure what they’re looking for, but he’s pretty sure it isn’t any of the cutlery or keys that Ragan and Anan are fighting over. Everything inside here is far too bright colored, he notes as he shifts the sheets on the bed. It looks more and more like it comes from a fairytale. Speaking of fairy tales, he moves towards the wardrobe half hidden in the corner, hadn’t little Red’s grandmother been in the closet? He swings it open and stops.

“Guys?” he calls, “I think I found something.” Inside the closet, where clothing and an old lady in her underwear are supposed to be, is dark, smooth metal with a strange pulley and the number one painted beside an arrow that points upwards. 

“Out of the way!” Ragan pushes him roughly, causing him to stumble back. Kodya catches his arm and gently rights him as Ragan surveys the strange contraption with a frown. “It’s one of those upward machines. We all have to go up.”

“We aren’t going to be able to take the mounts with us in that,” Anan points out, eyeing the small space with trepidation. 

“Then we’ll just have to retrieve them when the realm’s conquered,” Ragan shrugs. No one seems to have much to say in objection to that, and so one by one they begin traveling upwards.

\--------------------  
The next couple levels begin to form a pattern. A kind of play on fairy tales or old legends show up, but Ragan and the others kill them before asking questions. The three bears from goldilocks, the evil queen from snow white, and Rumplestiltskin. All of Gyrus’ childhood fears are being ruthlessly slaughtered. He almost feels bad for them, except that one time Gyrus had run into a dwarf by a river, the dwarf tricked him into nearly drowning before Kodya had shown up to rescue him. 

“I thought I told you these creatures were dangerous, Kid,” he says as he pulls Gyrus out of the river with a single strong arm.

“Sorry,” Gyrus’s teeth clatter together as the cold water seeps into his already cold body and freezes his soul. “I just thought we could use some directions. Be useful you know?” He shoots Kodya a half smile. 

Kodya pinches the bridge of his nose. “Being useful does not mean getting yourself killed doing something really stupid. Try to use your head next time.” 

“Stop fussing over your boy toy and get over here and help!” Ragan calls and Kodya turns away with a roll of his eyes. Gyrus is left shivering on the bank, trying to figure out what exactly it is Kodya wants him to do. 

Something catches his eye, a movement half hidden among the trees, on the other side of the river. He edges forward, cautious in his movements, to the edge of the water. Whatever it is, it moves too, eyes red and huge that stare back at him.

“Excuse me,” Gyrus says, because no matter what Kodya said, politeness is always the wisest choice, “Do you know where we are?” The great red eyes continue to stare back, unblinking, then a part of the shadows opens to reveal a blood red mouth filled with sharp teeth. 

“SCREESH!” It screams, lunging forward. Gyrus stumbles back, instinctively throwing up his hands to prevent the creature from coming closer. Something bright and green flickers between them, holding the shadow back. 

**_“Why run from what you really are?”_ ** A voice hisses. The cold claws inside him, as if something inside were trying to escape. Gyrus flinches, as the barrier flickers in and out.

“Fire!” something green and bright shoots past his head, dissolving his barrier and slamming into the shadowy monster. Gyrus has just enough time to think, I’m saved, before another wave of pain rushes over him. 

Once, when Gyrus had been young, he had gotten shocked by a stray cable when he’d been trying to fix a ship engine. The pain he felt right now was like that, sharp, encompassing, and fiery. 

“Gyrus!” a voice shouts, distant to Gyrus’s ears. The voice is familiar though, strong arms cradle his head. Gyrus blink his eyes open to see Kodya above him. There’s horror on Kodya’s face, and... guilt? Why does he look so guilty? Gyrus is the one who had done exactly what he’d told him not to do, again.   
Gyrus pulls his lips to ask what it is that had hit him, but Ragan’s voice gets there first. 

“It worked,” She crows, waving the strange, clunky gun above her head. All around the sounds of cheers fill the air. Wincing in pain, Gyrus turns his head to see the rest of the team cheering, holding up additional guns, which hold the same shape and size as the strange packages that everyone has been lugging around. So that’s what they are. A small part of Gyrus’ brain is proud he figured it out. 

_“What was that?”_ a voice in his head asks.

_“Trouble,”_ the other replies, voice grim.

“It wasn’t supposed to hurt,” Kodya is talking, still staring at him with that strange guilt. “You built it, surely you wouldn’t,” he swallows, “Did it always…?”

“Still sympathizing with a traitor?” The bald man steps forward, arms crossed as a strange wristband glinted in the light. The attention of the crowd turns to them, and Gyrus feels his heart stop as the angry eyes turn on Kodya too. Only Anan’s expression is unclear. 

“Oh for Odin’s sake!” Ragan slaps her forehead. “Even after everything he’s done, you’re still wrapped around his little finger!”

“What do you expect?” The bald man says, and Gyrus doesn’t like the way he sneers at them both. “I’ll bet they’re still in cahoots.”

“He’s hurt,” Kodya’s grip tightens slightly on Gyrus. “I’m just doing my job.”

_Is that all I am to you?_ Gyrus thinks as his eyes trace the strong jaw above him, remembering how his eyes had lit up when Gyrus had handed him his inventions in quarantine, how insistent he’d been on Gyrus sleeping on the big bed after training, and the comfort he’d offered after Gyrus’s nightmares. _Just a job?_

“Oh please,” the bald man steps forward, foot landing on Gyrus’s leg and pressing down. Pain shoots through Gyrus’ body as he lets out an involuntary whimper. “Your job is to keep him under control so he doesn’t kill us. Or have you forgotten what happened the last time?” He steps back, releasing Gyrus’ leg. Gyrus releases the breath he’d been holding as the pressure releases.

Kodya grit his teeth. “You’re wrong. My job is to keep him functional, as well as keeping him from turning. If he gets this hurt everytime we activate our guns, either we lose one person to carry him everytime he collapses, or we all have to stop, either way, it's a liability. So yes Xinju, I am doing my job!” He spits the last part, glaring at the group before him as he continues to cradle Gyrus’ head.

“Ahem,” Anan coughs into his fist. The group’s attention swung to him. “I know you aren’t going to like this,” Anan begins, a drop of sweat slipping down his brow. “But Kodya does have a point. It's not like we can just leave him behind and use the guns long distance, otherwise he wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

There’s a beat of silence before Ragan speaks up. “Anan’s right, which means... Kodya!” She points a sharp finger down at him. “Since the battery’s your responsibility, you're now on the support team. Carry him or whatever and just make sure he doesn’t slow us down.” She makes a face before turning to the others. “As for the rest of you, move out! We’ve got a realm to complete!”

The crowd breaks apart at her command, casting angry looks at Kodya and Gyrus as they go back to looking for the next way up. Kodya returns each glance with a haughty one of his own, as if daring anyone to say anything. Gyrus watches him from below, mind buzzing through the hazy fog of pain. _Stop it,_ he wants to yell, but he can’t get his lips to move. _Stop hating him for a job he can’t control. It's not his fault he has to take care of me._ But silent pleas do nothing, and the looks do not stop.

\----------------  
It’s several more levels before they decide to camp for the night. Gyrus honestly lost track of how many exactly. The further upwards they went, the less the levels followed the fairy tale theme and the more they began to jump straight into the monster fights. Once that happened, they all began to blend together. 

The level they picked to camp on was fairly simple, built like the alien ruins they’d found before, a house without any windows or way out. It had been covered in strange, bog-like creatures who had been fairly easily disposed of, leaving nothing else of note and no space for anything to creep up on them, which had apparently been all it took to convince Ragan that this was where they should stop for the night.

Gyrus has tried to help, tried to _‘be useful’_ as Kodya put it, but it’s made very clear to him that his help isn’t wanted. Not setting up the tent they’d use for storage, not in cooking, and not even for cleaning up afterwards. In the end Gyrus has just parked himself in a corner, not too far from camp to cause problems, but far enough away that he doesn’t bother anyone. No one seems to object, and it’s there he stayed.

Only Kodya bothers to approach, bringing him food, taking away his plates, and bringing him back a sleeping bag. It’s almost kind, but then again, that was what he was supposed to do, it was his job after all. Gyrus says nothing to him, and he leaves with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Eventually the others work out a schedule for keeping watch, leaving Gyrus out of course, and almost everyone else goes to bed. Everyone except Gyrus, the pain of earlier still lingering in his muscles, and the revelations of the hour keeping him from sleeping. His head hurts as he muses how very small he feels, and wishes he were back in the ship with Tori and Sylvia, if it even was his ship.

The lookout switches, and Gyrus closes his eyes, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention to himself. 

A familiar voice sighs. “Are you still sulking?” Kodya asks, voice rye. Gyrus freezes, then opens his eyes.

“I’m not sulking,” he grumbles as he pulls himself up to a sitting position. _I was just feeling betrayed and hurt and useless and unwanted,_ he adds mentally, but doesn’t voice. Kodya raises an eyebrow like he knows anyways and Gyrus turns his head away so he can’t see his expression.

“Don’t lie to me kid,” Kodya says. And Gyrus scowls.

“Why do you even care? Sulking doesn’t get in the way of your job,” Gyrus practically spits out the last word, glaring down at his knees. 

Sharp footsteps echo as Kodya approaches, crouching down level with Gyrus as he does so.   
“It is my job kid,” Kodya says, “since your sulking is keeping you distracted, and if you’re distracted, especially on the upper levels, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

Gyrus tries to turn his head away, but Kodya catches his chin. “Stop that, I’m still talking to you.” Gyrus glares up at Kodya, but there is something earnest in his eyes that makes him hold his tongue. “I told you, some people aren’t going to like you, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve all got to do our jobs so we can go home ok?”

“You mean be a battery?” Gyrus snaps, and Kodya gives a slight flinch. Good. A part of Gyrus feels proud. The rest feels sick. “What do you want Kodya?” he asks, voice tired.

“I want you to be who you’re meant to be.” Kodya bites his lip as he lets go of Gyrus’ chin, settling against the wall beside him. “I told you before that you got sick,” he says, and Gyrus realises for the first time Kodya is actually going to explain something willingly. “And that you had powers.” Gyrus nods, remembering that conversation in the closet. “But what I left out was that you were powerful, powerful enough so that after...the incident,” he says carefully and Gyrus remembers the 12 empty rooms, “we decided to bring you back. It wasn’t the most...popular idea.” Kodya winces slightly. “And so it was decided that we needed safeguards, to ensure it wouldn’t happen again.”

“So you use the guns,” Gyrus looks back down at his knees, “to replace me.”

“Yeah,” Kodya shifted at his side. “Pretty much.”

“Then what was even the point of training me?” Gyrus gestures to the air as he turns to Kodya. Kodya bit his lip.

“Look,” Kodya turns his head away. “Just because I follow orders doesn’t mean I always agree with it.” His hand tightens into a fist. “I’ve trained you twice now since the incident, and you’ve never shown any signs of going homicidal again. You’re fine, you could very easily be a leader again, and you just need a chance to prove it.”

“Oh,” is all Gyrus could say. It isn’t often that Kodya brings up the time that they’d known each other before, in fact Gyrus doesn’t think he’s ever done it without prompting. 

Kodya hesitates, then pulls something out of his pocket. “Here,” he says, holding it up. 

Gyrus blinks at the woven fabric and plastic. “It’s a watch?” he asks. Kodya frowns.

“This is what charges the guns,” he explains. “All of us were given one before the mission started. It’s what Ragan used to send you into that shock.”

Gyrus stares at the little screen with trepidation, but Kodya isn’t finished. He shoves the little device into Gyrus’s hands. “What?” Gyrus starts and tries to pull away. “But you just said…”

“It can’t turn it off, they aren’t designed that way,” Kodya offers as he crosses his arms. “But you’ve proven to me that I don’t need it, for two lifetimes, so keep it.” He looks away, and Gyrus sees his ears are red.

Gyrus looks back down at the device in his hands, before slowly closing his fist around it. “Thank you,” he says, unsure what else to say. It doesn’t seem enough somehow.

Kodya grunts, head still turned, and Gyrus feels a strange warmth rush through him.

\--------------------  
The next morning brought much the same as the day before brought, more monsters growing increasingly less like their fairytale counterparts, more inexplicable levels to grind through, more cold looks and aggression from the others. But throughout it all, the feeling of the wrist watch tucked safety in Gyrus’s pocket kept him going. He didn’t need them to believe in him, Kodya did, and Tori and Sylvia and probably Oli. He’d be just fine. 

_“Positivity, who knew it was such an effective shadow deterrent?”_ A voice in his head says.

_“Don’t be fooled,”_ the other replies. _“It's not nearly as strong as it seems. What we need is a plan before this all blows up.”_

Gyrus shakes his head as Ragan and the others finish off this level’s monsters, angry zombie-like creatures in old victorian theatre clothing, before turning to join the search for the way up. 

“There seem to be two doors,” Anan bangs on one experimentally, “but they’re both locked.” 

“Fan out,” Ragan snaps. “The key has to be here somewhere.”

The other’s rush to comply while Gyrus drifts closer to the torches beside the left door. Something about them feels so familiar, but he can’t quite think of why. Is it because it’s off center?

“What are you doing kid?” Kodya asks as he comes up beside him, sword in hand. Gyrus doesn’t answer, too caught up in the strange sensation. Carefully, he twists the last torch into its proper position.

“What the…?!” Kodya screams as the ground beneath their feet begins to spin, sending both of them hurdling alone into the darkness. 

Gyrus collapses onto the solid ground with a hard thud. Pulling himself to his feet, he takes in his surroundings for the first time. The room is dark, so dark that Gyrus can’t see anything at first. He activates his glow suit, taking in the strange, long running corridors branching off in each direction. In the dim light, he’s able to make out Kodya lying a few feet away, and his sword across the room. 

“Kodya!” he yells, scrambling over to his companion, shaking his shoulders. “Kodya wake up!”

“Gyrus?” Kodya’s voice is weary, “What’s the matter?”

“We got separated from the group!” Gyrus exclaims as he glances back at the empty slab of wall. A chill runs down his spine, and he gets the sudden urge to run, now.

_“When did it get so big?”_ a voice in his head says. 

Kodya sits up, rubbing his head. “We’ll just stay close until they can get us out then,” he said, then froze. Gyrus watches as the color slowly bled out of his clothing. Kodya’s face pales. “Get to the door. Now!” he shouts, jumping to his feet and dragging Gyrus back to the rotating door that let them in. As he pulls him back, Gyrus can see hundreds of red eyes staring unblinking from each corridor.

**_“Found you,”_ ** a voice hisses, and Gyrus can no longer tell if it's inside his mind or not. 

Kodya pounds on the door as Gyrus activates his green shield, but it does not budge. Cursing, he pulls out a radio, and calls into it, “This is Kodya, requesting back up! The shadows are here and we need back up!” The radio fizzles and Kodya gives another curse. 

“Kodya?” Gyrus asks, “They’re getting closer.” The red eyed creatures are now much closer than before, and Gyrus can see their red mouths open. 

Kodya reaches for his sword, only to find it gone. He glances up to see it lying between them and the shadows, and curses again. “I need to get the sword!”

“But the shadows!” Gyrus says as the creatures draw even closer. 

“I’ll have to risk it,” Kodya says. “Stay put!” He darts out of the way, straight into the shadows path. Gyrus calls out, shield flickering as he tries to extend it as far as he can, but Kodya slips completely underneath it. 

Kodya fingers grasp the handle as the first shadow grabs his wrist. It barely seems to touch him, but Kodya screams as if he’s been burned. Gyrus turns off his shield, throwing it in a way he didn’t know was possible to cut the shadow in half, sealing Kodya in a safe cocoon. 

“Gyrus!” Kodya screams, and Gyrus feels a searing pain in his leg. He turns to see a shadow creature has snuck along the side, its long arm wrapping around his leg. He swings his sword, since when has he been holding a sword? It doesn’t matter. He swings it at the shadow creature, forcing it to release him. 

Kodya dives forward, sliding towards Gyrus, as he raises the shield around them once again. For a second their eyes meet, and Kodya smiles, a real honest smile full of the joy of survival. Then several things happen in very rapid succession.

A sharp, body-encompassing pain floods Gyrus, causing him to cry out and drop the shield. The shadow monsters screech and dive towards the now unprotected Gyrus and Kodya. Kodya sees them coming, and shoves Gyrus backwards, out of the shadows' way, leaving himself vulnerable. He draws his sword and tries to fight, but it does little good, the shadows are amassing and there is nothing anyone can do to stop them. Then Gyrus’ head hits the back door, and the world goes white.

\----------------  
“Kodya!” he wakes up in the command room of his ship, staring into the faces of the two Gyri. The place is a wreck, and it looks like some kind of hurricane passed through it. Gyrus dimly wonders if they get storms inside his mind.

“You have no idea,” the yellow clothed Gyrus remarks.

“Gyrus!” the black cloaked Gyrus kneels in front of him, pleading. “I can help Kodya! Let me take control, and I can make this right.”

A sharp sound interrupts them, as something hisses from above. **_“Where are you?”_ **

“What is that?” Gyrus asks. Looking at the two harried faces above him.

“I think it’s what you’d call a virus,” the yellow one replies. “And it’s loose in our head.”

“But we’ll deal with it.” The other Gyrus says. “It hasn’t found the command room yet, which gives us some time. Kodya however, does not, but I can save him.” He holds up his hands pleadingly, and Gyrus suddenly realizes that black clothed Gyrus is desperate. 

“If you don’t want to let him take control, I could try it too,” the other Gyrus offers. “But much as I hate to admit it, I don’t have the skills for this.”

Gyrus looks up at them both, at his own face, begging him for help, and sighs. “I really have nothing to lose do I?”

“Trust me,” the long haired one’s eyes flashes. “There is always more you can lose. The question is what you are willing to live without.”

The short haired one hits him. “He just agreed! Do not make this more complicated, that is the last thing we need right now!”

“What do I have to do?” Gyrus asks, having learned to ignore their bickering.

“Just say ‘I want your help.’” the long haired Gyrus says. 

“I want your help!” Gyrus screams, and the world shifts black.

\------------------  
Gyrus comes into consciousness gradually. He is uncomfortable, the ground is hard and flat, and everyone is talking in loud voices. His eyes flutter open, to take in the bright light, and a familiar face leaning over him.

“A-anan...?” he asks as the man’s face swims into view. “W-what happened…?”

“He’s awake!” Ragan shoves a sword in Gyrus’s face, but Anan bats her away. 

“That’s not going to help,” he says before turning back to Gyrus. “Actually, we were hoping you could tell us,” Anan frowns, and there’s something dark in his eyes. Gyrus shakes his head, trying to clear it, but there’s a ringing in it that won’t go away. What had happened? They’d been attacked and… “Kodya!” Gyrus jolts upright, looking wildly back and forth. “Where’s Kodya?”

“Calm down!” Anan shouts, pushing him roughly back. “He’s over there! He hasn’t woken up yet.” Gyrus follows Anan’s finger to see Kodya lying unconscious across from him. He looked alright, there didn’t seem to be any damage. Gyrus could have wept with relief, as he sags back down. 

His left side feels... lighter for some reason. Absently, he glances over, to see something that doesn’t compute. His whole hand, and half his arm are gone.

“AAAH!” Gyrus screams again, and Anan hurrys to stop him before Ragan sticks her sword in him.

“Yes, you’re missing an arm!” Anan says, “But at least you’re not dead! We’ll have Nephthys look it over later.” That’s not reassuring in the least, but gradually Gyrus feels himself calming down as the initial shock wears off. He glances back over at Kodya; all his limbs are intact. It looks like this only happened to him.

“Is everyone okay?” Gyrus asks, voice hollow. Above him Ragan scowls.

“Everyone’s fine!” Anan motions his hand, drawing Gyrus’ attention to the others in the room, sorting through the remains of what looks like an intense fight. Gyrus breathes a sigh of relief. He may not particularly like most of them, but he’d hate to see them all die.

Absently, he watches as the bald man moves between him and Kodya, who’s being checked over by the woman in green. He stops, then bends down to pick up something on the floor between them. “Well, well, well,” he says as he holds up the bracelet for all to see. “What do we have here? And why isn’t it on Kodya?” Every eye in the room turns to glare at Gyrus with suspicion. Even Anan moves back. Gyrus looks up into the smirking face of the bald man, and feels his heart sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tori: Do you ever get the feeling we're missing something important?  
> Sylvia: (Eating the chocolate Oli gave her) I dunno  
> Tori: Just me then? Okay. I'm sure its nothing.  
> Meanwhile in the mission  
> Gyrus, Kodya, and Anan as they run from a giant spider named Miss Muppet: AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!


	15. The Ugly Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Gyrus thought this couldn't get worse?

Nephthys is waiting when the rest of the party drags Gyrus and Kodya back through the portal. “Kodya!” she screams, jumping to his side and pulling the unconscious man forward to look him over for injuries. “He’s alive,” she sighs before turning to look up at Ragan. “What happened?” She asks.

“The traitor got him alone,” Ragan snorts as she shoves Gyrus roughly forward, and he falls to the ground, remaining arm not enough to fully catch him as he crashes against the seamless title. “He’s responsible.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Gyrus protests as he struggles to right himself. “It was those shadow creatures! They attacked us!”

His words do nothing as a woman steps forward, scratching her nails across his neck. Gyrus screams as she laughs maniacally. 

“A likely story,” the bald man snorts as bloody red ties close around Gyrus’s neck and arms. “Like we don’t all know you’re one of them!”

“Don’t bother fighting,” the woman with the blood red nails adds. “Now your blood is on my nails, you are under my control!”

“W-what?” Gyrus gasps, the latest revelations throwing him completely for a loop. “How?” Last time he checked, blood stayed in the body, and didn’t this just further prove he was made of flesh and blood, and not that strange black matter, rendering their whole argument pointless?

Nephthys gives him a swift, searching look, eyes landing for a second on his missing limb before turning back to Ragan and the party. “What exactly did you see,” she asks. “I want those details, not what you thought happened.”

“I don’t have to explain it to you healer!” Ragan snaps. “You're not the one whose in charge here!”

“Those details could make a huge difference in how I treat my patient,” Nephthys snaps back. “And besides, Gyrus is injured in a way that does not suggest shadow possession, so until you prove that, he’s my responsibility!” Ragan glares at her, and Nephthys straightens her shoulders, meeting the glare with a sharp raise of her eyebrow that reminded Gyrus vaguely of Kodya.

“Nephthys is correct Ragan,” Don’s voice carries over the whole room, silencing everyone present. Gyrus feels hope enter his heart as every eye in the room turns to his captain. Don threads his fingers together. “We need the details of the event before we can pass judgment. What exactly happened?”

Ragan straightens her shoulders, all anger slipping behind the mask of a perfect soldier. “On the upper levels, The battery started sniffing around a part of the wall. Kodya went to see what he was up to, and the battery activated the door to trap them apart from all of us. We tried to break through, but were unable to blast the door open. Then the battery’s energy began to fill the air, and the door opened, revealing both Kodya and the battery unconscious on the other side. The battery was missing an arm, while Kodya’s body was covered in shadow burns. Furthermore, Kodya’s command bracelet was no longer on him, but rather inches away from the battery’s scrawny hands.” She points dramatically at Gyrus whose eyes went wide as he tries to focus on the finger in front of him.

“Gyrus is covered in shadow burns too,” Nephthys points out, and Gyrus eagerly points to his own leg, still blackened and burned. The lady with the blood ribbons gives a sharp tug and he winces and stops. “And you admitted to not being there when it happened. How do you know this wasn’t an attack of the shadows who your guns scared off?”

“Did you miss the part where he isolated Kodya and removed his only protection from the shadows?” the bald man points out. “It’s just like Hinju!”

Nephthys takes in a deep breath, eyes kind. “Xinju…” she implores.

“Don’t you Xinju me!” the bald man takes an angry step forward. “All of you are completely ignoring the danger, attending parties, going along with this stupid spaceship farce…”

“Spaceship farce?” Gyrus’s head snaps up, searching the crowd imploringly. “What do you mean spaceship farce?”

“Oh stop playing dumb!” Xinju rounds on him. “The jig is up! You know as well as I do that there is no ship, and we certainly aren’t your crew!”

Gyrus stares at him, speechless, as his world quietly breaks. 

Nephthys is still talking, arguing about how there isn’t enough evidence, but her voice sounds distant, like she’s speaking from the end of a tunnel. Gyrus isn’t listening anyways, too wrapped up in the revelation that Xinju has just revealed. Through the time travelers, the realms, the weird, video game-like mechanics, and strange, not quite right rooms. Through all of that, the one thing that has kept him going is that these are his crewmates, just as lost as he is. The first thing he’s ever been told, and by his captain no less. Is Don even really his captain? If they’d been lying to him from the beginning, is anything even real?

“They were right,” he murmurs as the image of the two other Gyri comes into his mind. His breath came faster and faster.

**_“So you finally see their lies,”_ ** a shadowy figure appears before him, red eyes glowing. **_“Join us, and we will give you the truth.”_ ** It holds out a shadowy hand, ink dripping from it like smoke. And Gyrus knew that whatever this is, it’s trouble. They’d nearly killed him twice, and Kodya too. By all logic it shouldn’t even be here, in the not-ship. But it’s offering truth, some margin of sense among all the insanity around him. He lifts his hand.

“Don’t give in!” A hand closes around his wrist, pulling him away from the shadowy hand and back to its owner. _Kodya?_ Gyrus wants to cry in relief to see his standing on his feet, fully restored. _But how?_

“Just promise me,” Kodya’s touch is gentle but his hands are strangely see-through in the blue, glowing light. “You’ll come to me instead!”

**_“A nice memory,”_ ** the shadowed being says. **_“We’ll take it.”_ **

No! Gyrus yells, furious that he even considered giving in to this creature before him. But there is nothing he can do. His body rises without his permission, even as Gyrus struggles in the grip of the shadows' tentacles. It does no good. The shadow raises Gyrus’ arm, and Gyrus dances like a puppet on a string.

\------------------  
Gyrus sits on Sylvia’s mop bucket, head in his one remaining hand, as he waits in the closet to wake up from this nightmare. He wishes the girls were here, he has so much to tell them, so many mysteries discovered in the last few days that the closet gang could unravel. Not that they would come. Not anymore. 

He tugs at his hair as the fear in Tori’s eyes flashes across his mind, and the fierce protectiveness in Sylvia’s as she pulls Tori away from Gyrus. He tried to apologize, but they’d--he let out a slight whimper--they’d taken those bands to control him and walked away, as if they hadn’t betrayed everything the closet gang stands for. 

“Closet gang means no secrets,” he whispers to himself. And at least they had kept to that, making no secret of their newfound contempt for him. Unlike everyone else, who had sold everything as a lie from the moment he’d arrived. And who had told him they were lying? Tori and Sylvia. So why had they turned on him? Isn’t discovering the whole truth, even the ugly parts, what they were working towards together?

_Maybe this was just a truth too big for them to handle,_ a part of Gyrus’s brain thinks viciously. _And didn’t I know that? I kept the twelve murders from them, kept my increasing sickness. A part of me must have known how they would respond._

And why did the sickness have to be something that actually happened? Why couldn’t it have been just another truth Kodya had fed him to keep him complacent and keep him from finding out the rest? 

Kodya, the thought of him, sent Gyrus spiralling again. Kodya, who had been the only person who refused to wear a band, even knowing everything. Kodya, who lay in the infirmary, injured because of that choice. Has he woken up yet? Gyrus doesn’t know. And he can’t go check, he can’t face him and show him exactly how badly Gyrus messed up. Maybe it’s selfish, but he doesn’t think he can’t handle another person hating him right now.

_“Okay that’s enough.”_ A voice in his head calls. _“Yes all our friends have turned on us, and we’re prisoners in the Room of Swords, and Kodya’s injured, and it's looking really bad, but if we don’t look over our mistakes and learn, we won’t grow. We can still fix this.”_

A cry echoes in Gyrus’s mind. _“The shadow almost killed Tori and Sylvia! How are we going to make up for that!?”_

_“We can’t afford to break like this! The new Gyrus needs to come into the Black Box so he can learn the truth.”_

Gyrus shakes his head as his eyes fall on the broom leaning against the wall, and he promptly starts sobbing. How many times had Tori’s hair gotten stuck in that broom? 

_“And remember how many stupid fights she’d get into?”_ the voice in his head adds with a sniffle.

Gyrus nods because she really had a way of challenging people at the absolute worst times. 

_“Are you two bonding over being miserable?”_ Gyrus sees the black-clothed Gyrus throw up his metaphorical hands. _“We don’t have time for this!”_

“What do you know?” Gyrus grumbles, uncaring if he spoke out loud, after all, it wasn’t like there was anyone around anymore to listen. “It's not like you’ve…” he breaks off as the closet’s handle turns, door opening to reveal the bright light of the hallway.

Gyrus blinks against it, eyes coming to focus on Tori’s startled face. For half a second Gyrus allows himself to believe she’s come here to see him. “Tori!” he exclaims.

Tori shoves a palm over his mouth, silencing him. She won’t meet his eyes, instead grabbing the broom he’d been staring at and pulls away immediately, closing the door with a sharp snap. Gyrus stares at the closed door, feeling like she had just slapped him in the face. 

“Hey fancy pants,” Ragan’s voice grates across his ears, coming from across the door. “You seen the battery?”

Gyrus’ heart leaps to his throat, but Tori’s voice is flat as she replies, “Not my job to know where he is.”

“Oh come now,” Ragan simpers. “And here you were such good friends before he showed his true colors. You telling me you have no idea where he could be?” her shadow draws close to the door and Gyrus freezes.

“He is not my friend,” Tori states. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have cleaning to do.”

Ragan laughs, and Gyrus holds his breath until her sharp footprints grow farther and farther until finally they are gone for good. 

Gyrus waits a few minutes longer, hope and fear wrestling inside him. Finally he decides that Ragan is completely gone and throws open the door, desperate to ask Tori why she lied, and did this mean she’d forgiven him?

The hallway is empty, and Gyrus feels his heart sink. Whatever Tori had done, she still hadn’t stuck around to talk to Gyrus. He stumbles down it, half wondering if maybe she left with Ragan, or if she had just gone because she didn’t want to talk to Gyrus. 

A wonderful scent fills his nostrils, and he stops, realizing he’s right beside the kitchen. The door is open and he peaks through, only for his eyes to meet two wide and soft ones. Oli.

“Hi,” Gyrus says, eager to see his friend but marred with fear of another rejection. “Did Tori come by here?”

“I don’t know,” Oli rubs the back of his hair, and Gyrus catches sight of the shiny bracelet on his wrist. Oh. He looks down at his feet, wondering if he should leave. “She’s probably helping get ready for the party, though,” Oli continues, “the one to celebrate the new sword.”

“I see,” Gyrus keeps his eyes on the ground. Yet another event he very much would not be attending. “Is that why you’re cooking too?”

“Oh no!” Oli shakes his head with a rueful laugh. “No I’m not going. I’ll just use the time to stock us up on Manana muffins.”

Gyrus raises his head, to look at Oli. “You’re working? Why not go to the party?” he asks. After all, he does so much for everyone. He deserves a break.

“Oh,” Oli refuses to meet his eyes, “it's okay. I never go on the missions, so I didn’t really do anything worth celebrating.” Gyrus blinks, the illogical statement temporarily throwing him for a loop.

“But you make all of our stuff!” he points out. “We wouldn’t survive out there without you!” Vivid memories of Kodya feeding him Manana muffins after one to many blasts from the guns swim before Gyrus’ eyes. Oli stares down at his toes and Gyrus realizes for the first time the lack of eye contact isn’t about Gyrus.

“Maybe I know how you feel,” he admits as he looks at his own feet. “I’m not going to the party either, so-,” he peaks up at Oli, “-do you need some help?”

For a long time, Oli says nothing, and Gyrus feels his hope start to die. He opens his mouth to take it back when Oli says, “Not for Manana muffins,” Gyrus flinches but Oli plows on, “I have a much better idea.” Gyrus’ head snaps up, and Oli is grinning with an almost mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Do you know where your old journal is?”

\------------------  
“I’ve missed this,” Gyrus sighs as he tinkers with the parts of the nearly completed robotic arm in front of him. It had been so long since he last got to dig his hands, or hand in this particular case, into mechanical parts and just build. 

“Me too,” Oli says from beside him, giving a slight bounce as he makes the final piece out of the materials in his hands. “I never get to work on anything like this anymore!”

Gyrus grins at his amusement as he slides the last into place. “You really could have been a wonderful engineer, if you’d lived in my time.”

Oli gives a chuckle. “Just because the Hellenes lived from ages before your time doesn’t mean that we didn’t have engineers, Gyrus.” Gyrus looks down at the arm, feeling slightly chasined. It looks perfect, but Gyrus knows there is still one test left.

He slips it on his arm stump and powers it up, feeling it attach to his nerves as the hand closes into a fist. “It’s working!” he exclaims.

“How does it feel?” Oli leans closer, fists closed in an attempt to hold in his glee.

“It feels perfect,” Gyrus says as he holds up his new hand, watching as each finger moves with his thoughts as if they’re flesh and blood. 

“It looks great too!” Oli says, as a familiar looking piece of paper catches Gyrus’ eye. “I think these pieces might be my best work yet!” Gyrus turns his head, to see the designs for the guns. His heart sinks.

“...can’t wait to show the others!” The excitement in Oli’s voice brings Gyrus back to reality. Carefully, he pulls the arm off, as Oli asks, “Did something go wrong?”

Gyrus stares at the arm. “I don’t know if I’m ready to wear this yet,” he gives a wry grin. “Besides, the last thing I need is for everyone to see me as a bigger threat.” Tori, Sylvia, and everyone would probably hate him even more.

“They’ll come around,” Gyrus’s head jerks up, but Oli isn’t looking at him, instead staring off into the distance as he rubs the back of his neck. “Tori and Sylvia, I mean.”

“I don't know,” Gyrus says, bitterness clawing in the back of his throat. “They seem pretty set against it.”

“It might take a while,” Oli says, “they’ve never seen the scary side of you before. But Gyrus,” he turns to look him right in the eye. “You are a lot less scary now than you ever were before. And you didn’t kill anyone this time, so I’d say you’re doing pretty okay!”

“Nice to know the bar is set so low,” Gyrus replies with a faint tinge of sarcasm coloring his words. _Thanks to a certain someone,_ he mentally adds.

_“I am so proud of him,”_ a voice in his head sniffs. _“he’s come a long way.”_

_“Yes, Oli has really improved,”_ the other voice agrees, _“Now I’m almost sad we had to throw away the mission where I met him to stop the shadow.”_

_“Actually I was talking about Gyrus,”_ the first voice points out. _“He’s really learning how to sass you.”_

“You know who would really help!” Oli’s voice jolts Gyrus back to the present. He smiles down at him. “You should talk to Kodya! He’s awake now!”

“Kodya?” Gyrus looks down at his feet. “I don’t know if…”

“Nope,” Oli interrupts, shaking his head. “I guarantee that if anyone’s going to know what advice to give you, it's gonna be Kodya. Besides,” he adds, giving Gyrus a puppy dog pout, “he’s really lonely in the infirmary, and don’t you think you should go and keep him company?”

Gyrus scowls at the pout on Oli’s lips. “You stole that from Sylvia,” he accuses.

Oli brightens. “I did! She taught it to me in exchange for the chocolate! Wait!” He holds up a hand. “I see what you are doing, and it’s not going to work.”

“This is a bad idea,” Gyrus sighs. Then again, he did owe Kodya an apology, even if nothing else came of it. “But fine.”

“Excellent!” Oli smiles, the oven goes off behind him with a ding. “The muffins!” he exclaims, pulling them out onto a tray. “I’ve got to put these away for the next mission,” he explains. “Have fun with Kodya!”

“Bye Oli!” Gyrus waves as the other man departs. He shakes his head, only to see the papers sticking out once again. _Those papers,_ he thinks, _why do they look so familiar? I need a closer look._

Carefully, in case Oli comes back, Gyrus shifts closer to the filing cabinet and pulls them out. _The edges are torn. Like from a book,_ he thinks. _And the handwriting is so familiar, I’d know it anywhere. But this can’t be right!_ He swings himself around the corner, resting with his back against the hallway wall as he tries to collect himself. 

“Gyrus?” a familiar, dreaded voice says. Gyrus’s head snaps up to see Don rolling towards him.

“Don!” he cries as he tries to hide the papers behind himself. 

“Is everything alright, Amigo?” Don asks, like he hadn’t been lying to Gyrus for ages. His eyes flicker down, and too late Gyrus realizes he must have seen the pages. “Ah,” Don frowns. “Are those the designs for our weapon system? I told Oli not to leave them lying around.”

“It's not his fault!” Gyrus pulls them out in front, desperate to divert Don’s wrath away from Oli. “I saw the pages sticking out of a pile and thought they looked like part of a journal I found in my room.”

“It’s okay,” Don says, the picture of calm as he delivers yet another bombshell, “They are your designs, after all.”

_“You did WHAT?!"_ A voice in his head shrieks as Don goes on to explain how Kodya had found them after his disappearance. 

_“I told you not to trust the journal!”_ The other voice shrieks back. _“I was being manipulated when I made that, I didn’t understand the whole picture!”_

“...are you okay? You look a little pale.” Don’s voice grounds Gyrus in the horrible present.

Everything was my idea? Gyrus thinks, feeling sick.

_“NO!”_ The second Gyrus begins to clap his hands. _“We. Were. Manipulated. Say it with me: Manipulated!”_

_“I think I’m beginning to see why you hate Don,”_ the other voice mutters.

_“Really?”_ The second voice sounds gleeful.

“Gyrus?” Don implored. Gyrus shook his head.

“Will you please excuse me?” he says as he pushes past Don’s wheelchair. Don doesn’t reply, but Gyrus doesn’t really care, marching mindlessly away in hopes of out running his thoughts.

\-------------------  
In the end he goes to the infirmary, and blames Oli’s instance on why his feet led him here. He stops at the entrance, familiar fears bubbling to the surface as he peaks inside. Oli seems convinced that Kodya didn’t hold a grudge, but Gyrus can’t help but worry as he eyes the mostly empty room.

Kodya is sitting up in one of the infirmary beds, the same one that Gyrus had woken up from, ages ago. He’s alone, which Gyrus supposes is a minor blessing. At least this confrontation isn’t going to have an audience. He’s paler then Gyrus remembers, and looks infinitely younger in the plain white hospital clothing he’s wearing.

At the sight of Kodya, Gyrus remembers the last time he saw him, about to be eaten by shadows, and then unresponsive and still as the others closed in around them. He’d been there, unconscious, when Gyrus had lost control, and he scans his brain to see if the shadow had done anything to him while in control, but any memory is frustratingly hazy. Gyrus stuffs his fist in his mouth to suppress the whimper that comes from imagining Kodya’s prone form susceptible to the shadow’s wrath. 

Kodya’s head turns at the sound, and their eyes meet. “Kid?” Kodya’s eyes soften into a look of concern, and that’s all Gyrus needs to see. He runs forward, practically tackling Kodya into a hug as he buries his head into his chest and starts sobbing, all the stress of the last few days finally catches up to him. 

Two strong arms circle around his back as a voice says softly, “It's good to see you too Kid.”

Guilt claws up Gyrus throat as he sobs out, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” into the rough fabric of Kodya’s hospital clothing. 

“What are you apologizing for?” Kodya asks, and Gyrus pulls back to meet his worried eyes. 

“You got hurt and it’s all my fault!” he explains as Kodya’s eyebrows crease. “I couldn’t keep the portal up, and then you were unconscious, and they told me this wasn’t the ship and I just panicked and I lost control and,-” he chokes back another sob as he adds the final part, “-the shadow took over and I almost killed everyone!”

The barest of frowns crosses Kodya’s lips and Gyrus instantly pulls back, shame welling up inside him as he tries to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m acting pathetic.”

“What happened to your arm?!” Kodya shouts, and Gyrus glances down at the missing limb. Huh. He’s never actually given that much thought.

“I’m not sure,” he explains. “I think it happened after I fell unconscious,” he glances at Kodya hopefully. “Do you know what happened after I fell unconscious?”

Kodya shakes his head. “No, I thought the shadows got me, but then I woke up, so clearly that didn’t happen.” He gestures to his clearly moving body. 

For a second Gyrus wonders to why his body would matter, then he remembers something Kodya said, _“devoured by shadows,”_ and _“a death you couldn’t come back from,”_ and it all clicks into place. “They’re what killed the twelve aren’t they?” he says. “The shadows, and me. I lost control like I did earlier, and they all died.” _Which is why everyone hates me._ He adds silently. _Because I’m a monster._

“It's a bit more complicated than that,” Kodya hedges, “but essentially yes.” Gyrus looks down, feeling sick, and Kodya hurries on. “But Gyrus, I’m fine. No one died. If anything, whatever you did saved me.” Kodya gives Gyrus a small smile, and his heart drops.

_“Obviously,”_ a voice in the back of his mind murmurs. _“There was no way I was letting you die.”_

“There’s one more thing,” Kodya adds, his hands forming fists around the medical sheets. “When I was about to die by the shadows, I realized I forgot to tell you something, something really important.”

_“Oh no!”_ a voice in his head panics.

_“Oh yes!!”_ the other shrieks.

Gyrus doesn’t need to be a mind reader to understand what they are implying. His cheeks heat up as Kodya turns his wide blue eyes on Gyrus. A lot of things began falling into place, sharing a room with one big bed, the desperation in the long-haired Gyrus had at Kodya’s fate, all the constant comments from everyone on the mission, all of it forms a picture of what Kodya is going to say and Gyrus has no idea how he’s going to respond. 

“I’m sorry,” Kodya blurts out. And Gyrus’ brain short circuits. Because that is not what he was expecting. At all. 

“What?” he gasps, mouth hanging open. Kodya hadn’t done anything wrong. Gyrus was the one who’d nearly killed everyone.

Kodya lets out a sigh as his fingers relax from their death grip on the sheets. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I kept things from you and went along with Don’s ridiculous farce.” He scowls down at his lap. “I should have told you the truth, should have trained you to use your powers and face what was actually out there sooner, instead of waiting until Ragan forced my hand. I wanted to see if I could teach you to be better, but in the end I only hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I let you down,” Gyrus says, feeling numb. So he really isn’t any better than the monster who killed all those people. Good to know.

“Oh no you don’t,” Kodya lunges forward, catching Gyrus’ one remaining wrist in his hand. Gyrus’s head jerks up in surprise, to meet two very determined blue eyes. “Don’t you dare go twisting my words to make yourself feel worse.” his grip tightens slightly, but not enough to be painful, just firm, grounding. “Listen to me. I was wrong. I went along with Don’s plan because I was afraid, and because I was arrogant. I thought I could change you, and that was wrong. Wrong Gyrus. Do you understand?” 

“I guess,” Gyrus says, because Kodya looks angry enough that disagreeing with him seems like too much work. Kodya seems to see this anyway, and sighs.  
“I have known you for three of your lifetimes,” Kodya’s voice sounds tired as he tugs Gyrus closer to the edge of the bed. “And in every lifetime, you have been a good person Gyrus. Every single one.”

“Even the one that killed 12 people?” Gyrus raises an eyebrow, and Kodya shakes his head. “I’m not saying you didn’t have flaws, I’m not saying you didn’t have a mental break and do horrible things, some things I am still angry about. But you are not evil Gyrus, not even then. Do you understand?”

Gyrus stares at Kodya, eyes blazing with a strange kind of fierceness that Gyrus couldn’t quite name. And for the first time, the nameless fear he’s been carrying eases. He opens his mouth but finds he can’t quite find the words, settling instead for burying his head back in Kodya’s chest, and sobbing until he couldn’t anymore.

_“He really believes in us, that much? Even after everything?”_ a voice in his head whispers, sounding awed.

_“That, my dear Gyrus, is what love is like, platonic or otherwise,”_ the other voice in his head says smuggly. _“Still going to scoff?”_

\-----------------------  
Gyrus takes a deep breath, and then pushes the door to the command room open. Inside the two Gyri jump to attention, and Gyrus notes both their eyes are red.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve made up my mind,” he says. “Everyone here had been lying to me. I need to know what’s really going on out there, and even if I still don’t fully trust you, you’re the best shot I’ve got.”

“I’m so glad to hear it,” says the Gyrus with the shorter hair. “Because we’ve got a major problem in the form of a loose shadow running wild in here.”

“So that’s what took over,” Gyrus shutters, remembering the dark voice echoing inside his head. “How do we get rid of it?”

“The only way to do so requires reconquering the Black Box and taking back your memories,” the black-clothed Gyrus steps forward.

“And since I never completed it,” the yellow one adds with a sigh, “you’re going to have to trust this guy.”

“Didn’t you kill twelve people?” Gyrus points out. 

“All will be revealed in do time,” sniffs the long haired Gyrus.

“He did,” the yellow-clothed one says. “It's one of the two memories I saw. But don’t worry,” he adds as he sees the alarm on Gyrus’ face. “You don’t have to become him just because you see his memories.”

“You are free to choose your own cause,” the black-clothed one agrees. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to persuade you to join mine.”

“So that’s it then,” Gyrus claps his hands. “Let's get this over with.”

“Not quite yet.” The long-haired Gyrus holds up his hand. “This is going to take a while, and we can’t have people growing suspicious if you suddenly drop into a coma.”

“So you want me to come back every night,” Gyrus shrugs, remembering Kodya’s training. 

The long-haired Gyrus shakes his head. “No, we don’t have enough time to wait.”

“Please get to the point,” the yellow-clothed Gyrus rolled his eyes.

“I need you to take over the body while I’m guiding the new Gyrus through the black box,” the black-clothed Gyrus says.

“What!” Gyrus shrieks. “There’s no need for anyone to take over my body! I’ll just run off somewhere on a mission they think they lost me!” 

“I am literally you,” the yellow-clothed Gyrus points out.

“Oh, right,” Gyrus shuffles his feet feeling foolish.

“If we’re quite finished,” the long haired Gyrus drawls, “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, so I’d prefer it if we started sooner rather than later.” He gives them all a significant look.

“Okay,” Gyrus says, “But before we do, I want to know one more thing.” Both Gyri look at him expectantly. “Are there any other ground breaking secrets I need to know before this starts?”

“This guy’s part shadow,” the yellow-clothed Gyrus points at the black.

_“What?!”_ Gyrus jumps back, images of the monsters running through his mind.

“Mastered!” the black-clothed Gyrus shrieks “I’ve mastered the shadow within me! There’s a huge difference!” 

“He’s not on their side,” the yellow one offers. “I figured that out quick enough when the shadow tried to kill us both. It does seem to give him some cool combat moves though.”

“Will you still follow me, now that you know my true nature?” the black-clothed Gyrus asks.

Gyrus sighs, _at least they were honest about the monsters._ He thinks to himself. 

“Thank you we try,” the yellow one responds, and Gyrus realizes that he can’t think privately in his own head, which is likely going to get annoying.

“You have no idea,” the black-clothed one mutters, before straightening up. “Well?” he asks.

“At this point, yes.” Gyrus says. “I need all the knowledge you can provide.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” the long-haired Gyrus smiles.

“If it's all good with you, I’m going to head out now,” the short-haired Gyrus says. “I’m looking forward to seeing what the Room of Swords looks like with my own eyes.” So saying he steps into a green circle, and disappears into the light.

“Are you coming?” the remaining Gyrus gestures to the door, which he is holding open. 

Gyrus takes a deep breath, and nods, stepping out of the room, and out into the adventure waiting beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anan: Feather Oli's being really suspicious, trying to keep everyone from going towards the infirmary  
> Feather:....  
> Anan: I can't let someone so suspicious keep making moves on Sylvie! I need to find out what he's really up too! (pushes past Oli and heads into the infirmary)  
> Feather:...  
> Anan: (Walks in on Kodya hugging a sobbing Gyrus)  
> Kodya: (glares)  
> Anan: (walks out)  
> Anan: (places a hand on Oli's shoulder) I'm sorry Oli, I misjudged you. You were only trying to protect us from gaining the wrath of a greater evil.  
> Oli: ...What?  
> Feather:...  
> Feather: Just smile and accept the praise you've earned

**Author's Note:**

> Here's to collaborations! Hooray!   
> So ends out fic. We hope you enjoyed!


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